


Year 2 – The Chamber of Secrets

by Khodexus



Series: Harry Potter and the Dragon's Heir [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Quidditch, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-10-07 03:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khodexus/pseuds/Khodexus
Summary: After an amazing yet harrowing first year at Hogwarts, Harry returns to face new challenges, and discover more about the forces conspiring to control his fate.





	1. Chapter 1 – Party at the Malfoys’

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere. No cussing, no adult situations, no violence (yet).
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is having a wonderful summer so far; he is invited to Malfoy Manor to attend Draco’s ‘official’ birthday party, and learns something interesting while he’s there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere. No cussing, no adult situations, no violence (yet).
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.
> 
> Note: This is the sequel to Harry Potter and the Dragon’s Heir, Year 1 – The Philosopher’s Stone. It is highly recommended you read that story first.

Harry was a wizard.

 

And like his parents before him, he’d been attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in order to become a better wizard.

 

This was a problem, however.

 

Harry needed to convince his relatives the Dursleys, to let him visit his best friend, Draco Malfoy.  Harry didn’t think Vernon Dursley would be too keen on this idea.  Because Draco was _also_ a wizard, and his uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia, and cousin Dudley wanted nothing to do with magic.

 

Harry hated living with his relatives.  The thing was, he lived with them at number four Privet Drive because his real parents were dead.  And even though his aunt Petunia was his late mother’s sister they couldn’t have been more dissimilar.

 

Petunia was a bony woman with a long face and neck, perfect for peering over fences or hedges, a past-time she was very fond of.  Her husband, Vernon, was a large man with a thick mustache and small eyes.  He’d locked all of Harry’s school things – the things he used at Hogwarts learning magic – in the cupboard the moment he’d arrived home at the end of June.  He’d initially padlocked his owl’s cage too, but when Harry explained that if he didn’t reply to the letters he received from his friends – wizards used owls to deliver mail – that they would worry about him, and might show up to find out what was wrong.  Vernon obviously didn’t want witches or wizards _visiting_ his very normal home, and reluctantly removed the lock after Harry’s promise not to send her out during daylight hours when she might be seen.

 

His cousin Dudley, at least, was somewhat manageable.  Dudley was a large boy, who used his size to intimidate other kids, including Harry.  But all Harry had to do was mumble gibberish words within his cousin’s earshot, and it sent the boy scurrying for cover.  None of his relatives knew that Harry wasn’t actually allowed to do real magic outside of his school during the holidays, and they were terrified that they might wake up as hamsters or something if they were _too_ out of line.  For the most part, Harry went along with what they wanted, but it was fun, now and then, to torment Dudley with the thought of being transfigured or charmed.  He’d suffered plenty of torment at Dudley’s hands over the years, after all.

 

It had been almost a month since he’d returned to Privet Drive, and life was pretty normal in his relative’s house.  And after his fantastical year at Hogwarts, _normal_ was exceptionally boring.  Dudley’s birthday had come and gone; one of the most important occasions for Dudley and his parents, but frankly Harry couldn’t have cared any less about that.  They’d had a big breakfast, and Dudley – whose girth already bulged past the sides of his chair – was wolfing down all the ice cream and bacon he could stuff into his mouth.

 

Then there’d been a dinner party his uncle had thrown for a colleague at work, and Harry had spent the whole evening in his room “pretending he didn’t exist”.

 

But today was different.  He’d heard the familiar flutter of wings, and looked up in time to catch a fancy black envelope at the kitchen table during breakfast as it was dropped from a friendly eagle owl.  The bird swooped back out the window, and Harry had to retreat to his room to open his letter.

 

“It’s bad enough you have those things terrorizing the neighborhood every night!” he heard Vernon growl behind him, “Can’t they send letters through the normal post, or through some other less visible means?!  I thought I told you not to receive letters during the day?”  Harry recalled clearly that Vernon had told him not to _send_ letters, but Harry didn’t feel it was prudent to point out Vernon’s inconsistencies just then.

 

So here Harry was, re-reading the letter, penned by Draco Malfoy, and contemplating what he could do to get his guardians to allow him to leave for most the rest of the summer.  The letter read:

 

Dear Harry,

Father has granted permission for you to visit us at our estate starting the twenty fourth of July.  We have made all the necessary arrangements and await only your reply.  I’m very much looking forward to practicing quidditch with you, and spending time with you, and introducing you to more of my friends.  Not to mention Mother and Father are hosting a late birthday party for me since we were in the hospital wing at school during my real birthday.

Father and Mother send their regards.

Your friend,

Draco Malfoy

 

Harry was very pleased, but hadn’t yet figured how to inform his aunt and uncle.  He thought about his problem for the better part of half an hour before the solution hit him.  He realized quite suddenly, and with an irresistible mischievous grin, that he could always reply back that he’d of course come, and then explain to the Dursleys that it was already decided.  Then they wouldn’t be able to stop him from going… he hoped.

 

So he sat at his desk to write a letter on a blank sheet of paper he tore from a notebook, and sent it off that evening with his snowy owl Hedwig, to inform the Malfoys of his decision.

 

“You what?!” Vernon went quite red in the face when Harry told him he was going to stay with the Malfoys for a few weeks.  “I told you not to send that bird out at all hours.”

 

“I had to reply.  The Malfoys are real big on manners, and you wouldn’t want to offend a rich and influential family like theirs.”  Harry was kind of ‘playing it up’ for his uncle’s benefit, but it seemed to have the desired result.

 

“How rich can they be?  If they were really that rich and famous, we would know about it, now wouldn’t we?  Even if they are… that sort.”

 

“You saw them at the station last month.” Harry assured them.  “The tall man in the black coat with blonde hair down to here?” Harry held his hand about level with his t-shirt collar.

 

“They did look well to do, even if they were a bit oddly dressed.” Petunia agreed, after thinking about it for a moment.  Harry was sure they wouldn’t forget their brief sight of the Malfoys who stood out even among the other magic people picking up the students departing the train from Hogwarts.  Harry personally thought that the Malfoys would not take it well if they heard anyone refer to them as ‘oddly dressed’.  Not that he really wanted to see what Lucius or Narcissa would do to someone who truly offended them.

 

“All right, fine!” Vernon agreed, still angry but at least giving Harry what he wanted.  “But they better not show up here doing anything funny, and don’t let the neighbors see them if you know what’s good for you.”

 

“I’ll try.”  Harry wondered if he’d have any say in the matter of how the Malfoy’s showed up.

 

“Try isn’t good enough!” Vernon scowled.  “I swear, I’ll lock you in the cupboard for a month if you embarrass us.”  Harry believed him, and quickly nodded and did his best to reassure them both that he’d do everything he could.

 

He could hardly wait.  He hated it here with the Dursleys, and if he could have had his way he would have spent the whole summer with the Malfoys.  Harry made himself scarce the rest of the day, not wanting to give Vernon any cause to change his mind.  With a visit to the Malfoys’ creeping ever closer, even one more day felt like too long to stay here now.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry was kept quite busy during the days that followed.  Petunia got it into her head that if Harry was going to be away for the rest of the summer, that he needed to get all of his chores done ahead of time.  Not only that, but she said he ought to earn his vacation, not just go ‘gallivanting off’ and leave all his responsibilities at home – as if Dudley had ever earned any of _his_ vacations.  Harry weeded the garden, washed dishes, cleaned the windows, mowed the lawn, washed the car, swept the attic, tidied Dudley’s room, and any other chores his aunt and uncle could think up for him.  Harry fell asleep each night exhausted, but woke up very excited on Thursday; the day the Malfoys were due to pick him up.

 

“It’s so… small.” Harry heard Draco’s voice drift through his bedroom window, and he quickly sprang to his feet and rushed downstairs.  The Malfoys had written back that they’d pick up Harry and his things early that morning.  Harry was glad that they’d specified ‘his things’ or he wasn’t sure Vernon would have let him pull them out of the cupboard under the stairs.  As it was they had been stacked neatly in his room only fifteen minutes before.

 

Harry opened the door and was delighted to note that they were wearing normal clothes.  Or at least far more normal than they usually wore.  “Good morning, Harry.” Lucius drawled, removing his hat, and standing just outside on the mat.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy.  Good morning Mrs. Malfoy.  And Good morning Draco.”  Harry replied, smiling at them all.

 

“Are you going to invite us in?” Narcissa asked, and Harry was very aware of his aunt and uncle watching him sternly from just out of sight of the doorway.

 

“Um…”  Embarrassed, he glanced back briefly, and saw Vernon shake his head emphatically, while Petunia very desperately nodded for him to proceed.  His uncle usually had his way with this sort of thing, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to say no to Narcissa Malfoy.  “Come on inside.” He said, standing back from the door, and waving his friends in.

 

Lucius removed his gloves as he passed through the doorway, holding them lightly in one hand along with his black and silver cane.  “What a quaint little cottage.” He said, looking around.

 

“Very quaint.” Narcissa agreed.  “It looks very… comfortable.”

 

Their manners were impeccable, but Harry, who knew them, if perhaps not extremely well yet, could tell that Lucius was finding this extremely distasteful.  Not so much the house, as Harry’s relatives.  He knew that Lucius was not fond of muggles – what wizards called those with no magic ability.  He didn’t even feel that muggle-born witches and wizards should be given the same opportunities as those who had grown up with wizarding traditions.

 

“It’s wonderful to meet Harry’s friend, and his family.” Petunia said, coming forward and extended her hand, though she looked every bit as strained as he did, perhaps realizing that she didn’t know any of their names.

 

“Yes, quite wonderful.” Vernon was a bit pink in the face, but he put on his best manners like the rest of them.

 

“Would you like to see my room?” Harry asked Draco, and the blonde boy heartily agreed.  Together they went upstairs, passing by Dudley who peered at them through the crack of his door.

 

“Oh, you must be Dudley!” Draco paused, grinning, and pushed his way uninvited into Dudley’s room.

 

“Draco!” Harry hissed, but his friend ignored him.  The blonde boy looked all around the room, taking in all of Dudley’s things as the round boy backed up nervously.

 

However, Dudley was used to getting his way, and he was also used to being bigger and stronger than other children.  So when Draco picked up one of his prize computer games, he worked up what little courage he possessed, and whined, “Don’t touch my…”  But Draco’s wand was in his hand in a flash, and pointed straight at Dudley’s face.  Harry’s cousin squeaked, and dove for cover under the bed, though he discovered rapidly that he couldn’t fit.

 

Draco just laughed.  “You’re lucky I promised Harry I wouldn’t curse you.  I’ve heard you don’t treat him very nicely.” He sneered.

 

“Draco, that’s enough.” Harry repeated.

 

“It’s alright; I just wanted to make sure he knew I didn’t appreciate his bullying.  What’s this thing for, anyways?”

 

Harry had to glance at it before he could answer, “It’s a game for Dudley’s computer.” He told him.  “I think he’s really into the Wing Commander series.”

 

Draco opened the box and looked at the floppy disks inside.  “How do you play?” He asked.

 

“You have to put the disks in the computer, and you play it on the computer.”

 

Harry spent a few minutes trying to explain computers to Draco, before Lucius called up the stairs for them to come down.

 

“Let me just get my things.” Harry said, starting towards his room.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Dobby has gotten them by now, let’s just…”  There was a thump on the wall between Harry and Dudley’s room, and Harry shared a glance with Draco before rushing to investigate.

 

“…bad, bad Dobby!” the Malfoy’s house elf screeched when they entered the room, slamming his head into the wall next to Harry’s bed again.  His things were mostly still stacked on the floor in front of his closet, with Hedwig’s cage right on top.

 

Dobby was a pathetic looking creature.  A small imp of a house elf with long pointed ears and lamp-like eyes.  He seemed to always wear a sack or pillow case, with rips for his arms and legs.

 

“Why didn’t you get his things in the coach already?!” Draco asked, scowling at the house elf.

 

“Dobby was very bad.  Dobby was watching Master Harry and Master Draco, and he forgot to take care of Master Harry’s things right away.”

 

“Well get to it, you can punish yourself more later.” Draco told him.

 

“Please stop.”  Harry added.  “You don’t have to punish yourself, its fine.  I can take my things down myself.  I don’t mind.”

 

“No, no, no!  Dobby could not let wonderful-gracious-Harry-Potter do that for him.  Dobby will have to just shut his ears in the oven door later.” He leapt up on top of Harry’s trunk, and took hold of Hedwig’s cage.

 

“No, please, really it’s fine!” Harry assured him.  But the house elf snapped his fingers and all of Harry’s things disappeared from the room.

 

Harry sighed.  “Is he like that all the time?”

 

“He seems to get a lot more forgetful and jittery when _you’re_ around actually.” Draco told him, as they went down the stairs together.

 

Vernon took Harry by the shoulder and leaned in close to whisper in his face, “You better not have been up to anything _abnormal_ up there.”

 

“Nothing at all.” Harry said back, before following the Malfoys out the door.

 

He was a little confused at first when he saw nothing waiting for them on the street, but Narcissa was quick to explain.  “Law says we have to be very discreet about using any sort of magic around muggles.  So our coach is presently disillusioned.”

 

“Ah okay.” Harry looked around to make sure no one was watching as they approached a spot on the curb, then Lucius opened the door of the coach with a gesture of his cane.  “What if someone saw us getting in?”  Harry asked.

 

“The charm should deter anyone from looking this way for the brief time it takes us to get in and out.”  Narcissa added.

 

The steps that folded out from the doorway were perfectly visible, and Harry was able to climb inside.  Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa all followed him in, and took their seats around the expansive interior.  Harry – knowing what he did about magic – was fairly confident that the coach was much bigger on the inside than it would appear on the outside, had it been visible.

 

Lucius gestured once more with his cane, and the coach began moving.  It felt at first as if it was being pulled down the street by a pair of horses.  Harry could hear the clopping of their hooves even if he couldn’t see them through the disillusionment charm on the carriage, though he had a pretty good view out the window.  But when the hoof-beats stopped – just a moment before the entire coach lurched into the air angling up – Harry sat back away from the window.  “They’re flying horses?” Harry wondered aloud.

 

“Granians.”  Narcissa supplied.  “And yes, they very strongly resemble horses with wings.  You can take a closer look at them once we’re back at the manor.”

 

“We have an entire stable of them.” Lucius added, “I’m surprised Draco didn’t show you when you visited us last Christmas.  But then, you and he seemed quite enamored with your brooms, and obviously needed no other mounts during that time.” He smiled fondly at them both, and Harry was able to overcome his astonishment, and lean against the window to peer out once more.

 

He enjoyed watching the countryside fly by below them, and imagined that this was just about the next best thing to flying his broom.  “I could get very used to this; it’s much more enjoyable than portkeys, or apparation.” Harry confided in his friends.  “How fast are we going, do you think?”

 

“Granians are nearly unmatched in speed.  We’ve already made it past London, and I imagine we’ll be landing shortly.”

 

“Already?!”  Harry was impressed, he doubted even his Wind Chaser – the fabulous broom he’d played quidditch with – would be able to keep up with the granians.

 

As Lucius predicted, they were soon descending through the clouds, and very swiftly approached the ground, to land gracefully outside the front of Malfoy Manor.  Harry got out of the coach, and watched as Narcissa removed the charm keeping the whole thing invisible.

 

The horses were quite large, and their glossy coats shone a subdued grey, highlighted by their shimmering pearlescent feathered wings.  “They’re beautiful!” Harry admired, noticing with a start that their eyes were a very pretty shade of green.  But Draco – who had seen granians many times before – dragged Harry into the house, to discuss what they’d do with themselves over the next few weeks.

 

“We need to practice quidditch every day.” Draco told him on the way up the grand staircase, which rivaled the entry hall at Hogwarts for size, and surpassed it in sheer decoration.

 

“I haven’t had a chance to practice at all yet since Hogwarts.” Harry admitted.

 

“I want to make the team, so I have to make sure I’m in top shape.” Draco explained unnecessarily.

 

“My Wind Chaser has been locked up all last month.”  Harry continued, “It’ll be good to get it out in some fresh air for a bit.  Do you want to practice right now?”

 

“Definitely!” Draco smiled, “Make sure Dobby got your things in order, then I’ll meet you downstairs at the broom closet.”

 

Harry’s first impression of the Malfoy’s broom closet over the previous Christmas had been rather startling, for it was a full walk-in closet with racks and display cases for all sorts of brooms.  But Harry didn’t think twice about it now, nor about the fact that his Wind Chaser would already be there, but simply grabbed his broom and ran straight out the door alongside Draco to get some flying practice in.

 

Once they’d flown around the fields, performed tricks, and were starting to tire from the exercise, Draco told him, “We can practice some simple quidditch moves and tricks just the two of us, but I’ve invited several friends around next week for a full match the day before my party.”

 

“Brilliant!” Harry grinned, and brought his broom to the ground so they could rest for a moment.

 

They came back inside for some refreshments, and then were soon back in the air tossing small wooden balls back and forth at each other.  Harry didn’t miss a single catch, and Draco merely _almost_ fumbled a few.  “You’d make a really good seeker.” Harry complimented his friend.

 

“Yeah, but the team already _has_ a great seeker.” Draco noted.  “I think I’ll try out for chaser.”

 

Harry frowned, thought about it, and added, “They just got a new chaser last year, and Terrence won’t be on the team anymore, but even that means there should still be three experienced chasers on the team.  You might make reserve chaser, but I think you should stick to what you’re best at, that way you’re more likely to get on the team, and you can always practice more for another position later, once you’re accepted.”

 

Draco thought that over as they tossed a divotted red quaffle back and forth while performing maneuvers in the air.  “You’re right, I’ll try out for seeker, even if I’ll only play as reserve.”

 

“I do need a break now and then.” Harry assured him, “And it’ll be a big relief to know someone as talented as you are is out there looking for the snitch when I’m taking a breather.”

 

After they’d finished practicing, they came back inside, and enjoyed some fruit juice and sandwiches before Harry made Draco show him the granian stable.  Harry learned quickly that while they might be very pleasant to look at, they weren’t the best tempered beasts, and he ought to keep his distance if he didn’t want to get nipped.

 

Draco also showed him the family’s albino peacocks, which were just about the most magical things Harry had ever seen that did not possess an ounce of magic.  Then Draco showed Harry the their pet snufflers, which seemed a bit like cats, in that they kept the manor free of vermin, but they looked and acted nothing like cats, having thin scaled bodies and six clawed limbs for climbing over virtually any surface at high speed.  Then they went out to the pen between the garden and the stables where Draco kept his pet komodo dragon – so Draco could feed it – and then went back up to Draco’s room and sat together playing chess for the remainder of the afternoon.

 

Harry was getting quite comfortable in Malfoy Manor.  It was his second favorite place in the world, after Hogwarts.  It didn’t have the secret passages, or moving staircases that Hogwarts had.  But there were paintings that talked and moved, magical creatures lurking around every corner.  And of course, using magic was allowed here as it was at Hogwarts, at least for those of age.

 

While they were still underage, Draco and Harry _could_ practice magic with adult supervision, and Lucius had a tutor come around two days each week.  In the woman’s presence they could both legally practice charms, transfiguration, and even a few simple jinxes and hexes.

 

Draco taught Harry some more about wizard duels – a subject they’d delved into on their own time at Hogwarts the previous year – and they had some practice duels between them.  Nothing too serious, of course, although Draco knew some pretty good hexes.

 

Then there was Dobby.  When Harry had first visited the Malfoys, he’d discovered that the house elf seemed a little in awe of him, but Dobby was under strict orders to stay out of Harry’s way.  House elves pretty much had to obey their masters – in this case the Malfoys – or they couldn’t use their magic, or something to that effect.

 

Just as before, Harry kept spotting Dobby peering at him from doorways or around corners, or from a hiding place where he couldn’t be seen except for his lamp-like eyes reflecting the ambient light.

 

It was the middle of the following week when Harry was wandering alone – as he often did when Draco was busy with something – that he overheard Lucius talking softly in his study.  This by itself wasn’t abnormal, nor was it what caught his attention.  It was a single word – a name – which sparked Harry’s insatiable curiosity.

 

“This is exactly why I invited you here, Valerios.” Lucius was saying.

 

“I see what you mean.”  Valerios replied.  “This does seem to be a sensitive and potentially volatile chain of events.”  Harry inched closer to the door, hoping no one would pass by in the hallway and see him eavesdropping.  The Malfoys could be fiercely protective of their privacy, especially when it came to places like the study.  Places that – as Lucius told it – could be dangerous to someone who didn’t know what they might be poking into.

 

Harry had met Valerios Vladescu very briefly over the Christmas Holiday at a party he’d attended with the Malfoys.  The man was very polite, and seemed foreign except for his complete lack of any accent.  He’d seemed interested in Harry, not that _tha_ t was uncommon.  However, Harry had received a soothstone as a Christmas present.  The stone would grow warm to the touch when someone told a lie to him, and the stone had indicated that Valerios had been less than truthful, though about what, Harry couldn’t say.

 

The two men in the room beyond were quiet a moment, and Harry felt a tingle along the back of his neck.  Maybe they were doing something magic?

 

“The event that you spoke of does seem set.”  Valerios said at last.

 

“I know that your gift is stronger when working with certainties, so I was very thorough when determining if this was a certainty or not.”

 

“Of course, even if some choices are already set, there are many others yet to be made, what exactly is it you wish me to advise you on?” Valerios replied.

 

“How best to prepare myself and my family to face and survive what is coming this year.”  Lucius said immediately.

 

Valerios was silent for a moment before responding again, “It is very difficult to say, I would recommend telling your son what you’ve told me, give him the information he might need should a confrontation arise.”

 

“You don’t think I should keep him home this year?”

 

“I doubt he’d stay.  I see a great many things calling him to Hogwarts, and even if you succeeded in keeping him, he would resent you strongly for it.  There is little danger to a true Slytherin like him.”

 

“What about Harry Potter?  As I mentioned, I have reason to believe he may have at one time been at odds with him, but he has also been accepted by his legacy.  I am uncertain whether he would be in danger, but perhaps you can say with more certainty?”  Lucius’ voice was intense, and it seemed to Harry that he genuinely cared about what might happen to him, which Harry found a little surprising.

 

“Now _that_ is even trickier.  I can say that these events you have uncovered make things clearer, but Potter has always been difficult to read.  I cannot promise much concerning Harry, except that, as he is in Slytherin, he should not be in direct danger.  Unless, there is more to this than you are telling me?”

 

There was a long silence, and Harry felt somewhat alarmed by this turn of the conversation.

 

“Nothing I haven’t said.”  Lucius said at last, and Harry was almost certain he was holding something back, and this did not sound like the time or place to hold back.  “Again, I have reason to believe he may have been at odds with him once before.”

 

“I believe you have already prepared him as well as you can to face whatever trials may come.  If you explain things to Draco, but not him, Draco will reveal what he’s learned to him later when he has a chance.  This may make Harry’s path easier, but Draco himself will be far more likely to encounter a higher degree of danger.”

 

“I will think carefully on your advice,” Lucius said, and Harry heard a chair being shifted against the floor, and decided he’d pushed his luck far enough.  He padded down the hall as quietly as he could, and slipped into his room a moment before the door to Lucius’ study opened.

 

Why couldn’t he have heard just a little bit more?  What on earth were they talking about, and why was it putting him in danger?  What was Valerios’ role in all this, and why did he seem to know so much about Harry and those around him?

 

He thought briefly about confronting Lucius with his knowledge, but decided it wouldn’t make things any better.  Lucius would no doubt put Draco’s wellbeing above Harry’s, even if he _was_ concerned for Harry’s sake.

 

What did Harry even know?  Supposedly, there was something that was certain to come to pass that would affect the school.  It involved someone Harry had been at odds with at some point in his past, though Harry couldn’t think who that might be, unless maybe it was referring to Professor Snape, or maybe even Seamus Finnigan, though neither really sounded right to Harry.  And for some reason, Draco knowing about any of it would make things worse for Draco, but better for Harry.

 

It was too confusing.  Harry just didn’t have enough to go on.

 

* * * * *

 

Between tutoring, practicing quidditch, some mock duels with Draco, and exploring the manor, Harry was honestly surprised to learn that a week had passed since his arrival, and the very next day was to be Draco’s birthday party.

 

 “So, what did you get me, Harry?” Draco asked late that night in Draco’s room.  Harry knew they both needed to get ready for bed soon, and he was exhausted from the four on four quidditch game they’d played earlier with a bunch of Draco’s friends, including their classmates Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini, but he was also still too excited to sleep.

 

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Harry told him teasingly.  “It’s supposed to be a surprise after all, right?”

 

“You could give me a hint?” Draco cajoled, but Harry wouldn’t budge.  “I could guess, and you could tell me if I’m wrong or not?”

 

“Just wait.  I’m sure you’ll like it, and it won’t kill you to wait another day, will it?”

 

“No, but I’d really like to know…”

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, and the laugh turned into a huge yawn.  He blinked sleepily a bit then jumped when the door suddenly opened.

 

“You should be getting to bed, big day tomorrow, and you don’t want to be too tired for it.” Narcissa told them both.

 

Reluctantly, Harry left the room, and headed into his own room to get ready for bed.  He didn’t remember changing, or climbing into the big four-poster.  He awoke refreshed, but still a bit worn out from having dreamed of chasing cats all up and down Privet Drive, a dream which he also didn’t remember.

 

* * * * *

 

It was one of those days that passed by in an excited, frenetic blur, but Harry could still remember many details vividly.  Draco’s presents, his friends, the games they played, and of course, there was Jean-Claude d’Avery.  The man was a friend of Lucius Malfoy who happened to be visiting the manor during a portion of the party.  Mostly he didn’t bother Harry or the other guests, but there was a moment, towards the end, where he bumped into Harry between the hall – where the celebrations were being held – and the kitchen.

 

“Zut alors!  If it is not, ze Harry Potterr.” He said, recognizing Harry at once.  “I had hoped zat we might have a chance to talk.  I have heard a great deal about you Monsieur Potterr, and ze extraordinary events you participated in, just a few months ago at ze school.”  His smile was cold, and didn’t quite reach his light blue eyes.  Like Lucius, Avery kept his hair long, though his was a darker shade of blonde and he held his back in a short ponytail.  Harry was pretty sure his accent was French.

 

“Excuse me.” Harry wasn’t really feeling like talking about _that_ of all things, besides he’d just wanted to grab a snack and head back to rejoin Draco and the others.

 

Jean-Claude, however, followed a little behind, and continued speaking, “C’est incroyable for one so young, to have faced such a powerful dark wizard, an’ survive.  But zen, zis is not ze first time you have done just zat, is it?”

 

“I suppose.”  Harry admitted grudgingly.  “But, it was Dumbledore mostly.  If he hadn’t shown up I’d probably be dead.”

 

“So you had no role in resolving events?  I had heard a few sings, rumors mostly, but I would like to hear zem from you.  Was it just Quirinus Quirrel that you encountered in ze dungeons?”

 

Harry wondered how Avery had heard about Voldemort.  It wasn’t common knowledge, even among the students at Hogwarts.  Only Harry, Draco, and Professor Dumbledore knew the full truth.

 

Problem was; he had to still pretend that he might be inclined to join Voldemort’s cause, especially around people like Avery, whom Harry didn’t know anything about.

 

“I don’t know what you heard.” Harry began, thinking immediately that he wasn’t off to a very good start if he wanted to keep some of it secret.  “Quirrel was trying to steal the philosopher’s stone.  But it’s gone now; even if he comes back he can’t get it.”

 

“Zen you believe _He_ , will return?” Avery asked, putting an unusual emphasis on the word ‘he’.

 

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Harry lied.

 

“Ze Dark Lord.  Immortalite is fine, but I had heard it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who was after ze stone, in truth.”

 

“With the stone, he could have come back, I suppose.” Harry murmured, remembering those heart pounding moments in the dungeon.  Voldemort had offered to bring his parents back.  An offer Harry had been tempted to accept.  Had it not been for Dumbledore’s timely intervention, Harry wasn’t certain what he would have chosen.

 

“Zen he _is_ still alive?” Avery continued as if Harry were no longer there.

 

“Not exactly…” Harry explained, “He was… sharing Quirrel’s body, just barely surviving.  ‘Reduced to shadow and vapor’ was how _he_ said it.”

 

Avery mulled this over as Harry grabbed a plate of cookies, gave Dobby a smile and a wave, and started back to the main hall.  “Ce n’est pas juste.”  Avery said, almost too softly for Harry to hear.

 

“Pardon?” Harry blinked.

 

“Never mind.  Sank you for speaking so honestly with me.  I am certain it cannot be easy recalling such sings; encounters wis people who want you dead…”

 

“He doesn’t…  I mean, Voldemort said…”  Avery gasped, and Harry remembered too late that most people didn’t like it when he said Voldemort’s name.  “He said we could work together, I don’t know that he wants me dead.”

 

“Interesting.  Sough you can bet he will be very angry when he does return, I wouldn’t want to be the source of such anger.”  Avery’s eyes were at once haunted, and excited.  Harry had a feeling right then that Jean-Claude d’Avery was not a man he wanted to get to know.

 

Harry stared for a moment, but then realized Avery was lost in thought, and so took the opportunity to make his escape.  Unfortunately the incident was difficult to put from his mind, and while he tried to enjoy the rest of the party, he continued to dwell on it and Lucius’ conversation with Valerios.  Voldemort _would_ be angry, quite possibly at Harry.  The way Harry saw it; he had thwarted the Dark Lord twice now.  Was it even possible that he wouldn’t want revenge against him?  If so, what would be the point of pretending to be sympathetic to Voldemort’s cause?

 

Harry spent the next few days in a black mood, despite all the fun things he and Draco were doing.  His mind would return to the things he’d learned from Jean-Claude and Valerios whenever he had a moment to himself, or was alone in his room.

 

His room here at the Manor was cavernous and lonely, and even with all of Harry’s meager belongings inside, it didn’t feel any less empty.  But it was far more than he’d had most of his life at the Dursley’s, and he didn’t even live here.  He was startled to find Dobby waiting for him by his bed one evening after he’d bidden Draco a good night.

 

“Dobby, what are you doing in here?” Harry whispered, not wanting to get the house elf in trouble.

 

“Dobby is sorry, but Dobby was concerned for Harry Potter.”  Dobby replied in his squeaky voice.

 

“I’m fine, really.” Harry assured him, sitting on the edge of his bed to regard the elf, who stood on one of Harry’s trunks.  “Why would you be worried about me?”

 

Dobby looked sheepish, his ears drooping a little, but he replied quickly, “There is a plot, Harry Potter.  A plot which could put kind, generous, Master Potter in jeopardy.”

 

“Is this about Valarios?” Harry wondered out loud, remembering the conversation he’d overheard.

 

“No, Dobby has not heard any mention of a man named Valarios.” Dobby shook his head, his ears flapping almost into his face.

 

“Can you tell me… what the plot is?” Harry moved closer, his eyes intense.  “I mean, if I know more, I can be more careful, and I’ll be safer… right?”

 

Dobby made a pitiful sound, and shook his head again.  “Dobby has already said too much.  Harry Potter must promise to be careful.  There is danger for him at Hogwarts this year.  Perhaps he should not go back?”

 

“I have to go back!” Harry insisted, a little distraught at the idea of not going back, “Otherwise, I’ll have to go live with the Dursley’s.  Hogwarts is where I belong.”

 

“Dobby thought Harry Potter might say that.”  He looked forlorn, and Harry felt rather sorry for him in that moment.

 

“Look.  I’ll be extra careful, alright?  And, I’ll write you letters, so you’ll know I’m okay.”

 

Harry immediately regretted his offer when Dobby’s large eyes filled with tears, “Harry Potter would write letters to worthless Dobby?!”  He sniffled, and began wailing, wiping his eyes and nose with the pillow case he used as a shirt.  “Truly, Harry is the most wonderful, kind, generous, great wizard Dobby has ever met.”

 

“You must not have met many decent wizards…”  Harry was embarrassed, and thought Dobby was making a lot more noise than he should.  “You’d better go; I don’t want you to get in trouble.  If Lucius finds you; you’d have to punish yourself, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Dobby will punish himself anyways.”  Dobby got out between sobs.  Harry wished Dobby could stay a little longer.  He’d still never gotten much chance to talk to the house elf, but with the noise he was making, Harry was afraid it might already be too late to avoid getting caught.  “But Harry is right, Dobby will go now.”  And with that, the sobbing little creature disappeared from Harry’s room.

 

Harry sighed, his curiosity running a mile a minute, thinking he’d never be able to sleep at this rate, but he found quite quickly that it was morning, and he’d slept most the night away without ever remembering falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is still following all this. The transition to the new year was difficult, and I felt like I had to go back and do some of those descriptions and introductions that I skipped at the beginning of the first year. I started the first year where the ‘change’ occurred, but this time, I feel like I’ve got a complete book’s worth of story to tell, so as you can see I started much earlier. Even earlier in some ways than the original Chamber of Secrets started.
> 
> I’ve got a lot going on for the second year, and I just hope I can manage to fit it all in without becoming too tiresome, and long winded. I also hope I’ve done a good job setting up for things that are to come. Thanks again, and I hope you’ll all enjoy this even more than you enjoyed the first part of my story.
> 
> Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.


	2. Chapter 2 – Return to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets ready for the new school year, and makes some new – and old – acquaintances, not all of them friendly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere, and mild violence. No cussing, no adult situations.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.

“Is something bothering you?  You’ve been really droll the last few days.”  Draco asked as he came into Harry’s room with a small stack of envelopes.  Harry had now been at the manor for nearly three weeks.  “You’re having fun, right?”

 

“Yeah, I’m having fun, this is the best summer ever!  But you know it’s not going to last, right?”

 

“Yeah, we’ll have to go back to school eventually.” Draco grimaced.

 

“I didn’t mean _school_ : I really like it at Hogwarts.”

 

“Well cheer up; we just got our school letters.”  Draco handed Harry his – hand written with swirling strokes and flourishes in green ink on yellow parchment – and immediately tore his own open.  They were both quiet while they read.

 

“Train leaves from King’s Cross station on September first.” Harry observed.

 

“Yeah, that’s pretty standard.” Draco replied, “What’s all this rubbish about Gilderoy Lockhart?” He’d read over the list of books they’d need for the new year and it seemed over half of them were written by the man, whoever he was.

 

“Maybe it’s for our new Defense Against the Dark Arts class?  We’re bound to have a new teacher this year, after what happened to Quirrel, so maybe they’re a fan of this Lockhurt person?”

 

“Lock- _heart_.” Draco corrected.  “Well I’ve never heard of him before, but he’s sure written a lot of books.”

 

“Yeah, well, when are we going to Diagon Alley to buy our things?  We don’t want to be unprepared for class this year, we…”  Harry stopped, his eyes wide as he realized there was something he’d forgotten.

 

“Harry?” Draco had noticed his horrified expression.

 

“My soothstone!  Snape!  I met with him at end of the year, and asked him about what he said to you when I lent you my soothstone, he gave me homework; research on how to fool the stone, and he’s going to expect me to have it done by the start of term!”

 

“Why would Snape do that?” Draco gasped.  Draco was quite fond of their potions teacher, Professor Snape, particularly since he was a friend of the Malfoy family, and Draco’s godfather.  They already knew Snape didn’t much like Harry, though neither of them knew precisely why, but this surprised him still.

 

“There’s no help for it.”  Draco said at last, “Here, I’ll help you.”  He dragged out his school bag and rummaged through it till he found his book, ‘Famous Artifacts of History, Myth, and Legend’.  Together, they scanned the pages for any information the book contained on soothstones, which wasn’t much.  Then they moved their search to the library looking over book titles and pulling anything that looked useful off the shelves, before carrying their stacks into the parlor.

 

They discussed the matter, for exactly how long Harry didn’t know, but eventually their voices drew the attention of Draco’s father.  “What are you two doing inside; has the parlor become the new library?  I would have thought you’d be outside on your brooms.” Lucius found them surrounded by piles of books and parchment as they debated.

 

“Severus gave Harry homework over the summer, only Harry forgot about it until just now.”  Draco explained.

 

“It’s true, Mr. Malfoy.  I’m supposed to do research on how soothstones can be fooled.” Harry added.

 

“That’s what this fuss is about?” Lucius seemed amused.  “I see you’ve already been looking in the library.  Perhaps I can direct you to some of the more pertinent tomes.”  It seemed reasonable to Harry.  Lucius was, after all, the one who’d given Harry the soothstone as a Christmas present.

 

“And we got our letters.” Draco added as they moved to follow Lucius up the stairs into his study.  “We need to go to Diagon Alley to buy our things.”

 

“Well I can help you there also.  I was planning on making the trip to London myself next week, you two are welcome to accompany me, and we’ll handle all necessary shopping together.”  Lucius unlocked the glass doors protecting one book case, and ran his fingers along the spines of row after row of old looking books, before settling on one.  “Here, this should have most of what you need.  Though you want to be thorough; always use more than one source when researching anything important.”  Another quick scan and he selected a second tome, this one slimmer than the first, and deposited both in Harry’s hands.

 

After thanking Lucius for his aid, Draco and Harry got back to work on their research.  When they mentioned their Diagon Alley shopping trip to Narcissa that evening, she determined to come along as well, making a ‘family outing’ of the trip.

 

Draco and Harry spent the next few days reading and comparing notes, while working on an outline for Harry’s essay, and eagerly awaiting their trip.

 

* * * * *

 

Before he knew it, Harry found himself standing near one end of Diagon Alley with the Malfoys.  Narcissa had transported him by side-along apparation, just as Lucius had done with Draco.  The sensation of being dragged through a space too small for him that twisted crazily through the intervening terrain was not pleasant, but the momentary dizziness passed quickly.

 

They were in a relatively clear area to one side of the large white structure that composed the entrance to the wizard bank, Gringotts, where goblins guarded gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts in vaults deep beneath the earth, protected by magic and who knew what else.  The ride down was exhilarating, as the carts rolled at breakneck speeds along their rails through winding labyrinthine tunnels to the various vaults.  They picked up some of Harry’s money first, a small sack of various coins, that jangled cheerfully as they sped onwards to the Malfoy’s vault.  Or rather – as he would learn later – their ‘primary’ vault.  Harry was a bit surprised to see the place full, not just with coins, but other treasures, everything from glimmering swords, to dusty old carpets rolled up in one corner.

 

Lucius collected a few things from the vault that were definitely not coins, though with how swiftly he secreted them into his fancy silk drawstring bag, Harry couldn’t say with any certainty exactly what they were.

 

Then they were speeding back to the surface, with the various things they had collected.  Narcissa carried Draco’s purse, and had offered to carry Harry’s as well, but he had said he was just fine, thanks all the same.

 

“I’ll have to leave you two for a while.” Lucius informed them back on the street, “Some of my errands will take me into the side streets of Diagon, I’ll meet you all back at the book store.”

 

They smiled and waved as Lucius drew away and the three of them started on their adventure of obtaining their school things and looked forwards to a few snacks and sweets in the process.

 

“ ‘Arry, is that you?”  A loud voice called over the crowd as they emerged from yet another shop.

 

“Hagrid!” Harry exclaimed when he saw the man, twice as tall as everyone else around, his brown coat, full of pockets, a little dusty and his beard, as always, obscuring much of his face.

 

“Ah, Rubeus Hagrid.” Narcissa extended one hand to the giant with a polite but cool expression.  “Harry and Draco have told us all about you.”

 

“This is my mother, Narcissa.” Draco introduced her as Hagrid shook her offered hand as delicately as he could manage between his thumb and two fingers.

 

“Mother, this is my friend Hagrid, from Hogwarts.”

 

“Pleased ter meet you.” Hagrid offered, looking rather uncomfortable.  “Well… Ah’ve got things ter do… Ah’ll meet up with you later, if you like.”

 

“That’d be fantastic, but I don’t know for sure if I can, we’ve got a lot to do too.  But I’ll see you ‘round, Hagrid, either later or at Hogwarts.” Harry beamed at his friend.

 

Eventually, they made their way to the book store, the large sign over the store proclaiming it ‘Flourish and Blotts’, and a banner just beneath the highest window stated that Gilderoy Lockhart would be signing copies of his autobiography that very afternoon, which perhaps explained the crowd jostling at the front door to get inside, most of them witches close to Petunia’s age.

 

“It’s that Lockhart bloke again.” Harry observed, “What’s he famous for anyways?”

 

“You’ve never heard of Gilderoy Lockhart?”  Narcissa seemed a little surprised, “He’s quite well known, perhaps nearly as famous as you are, Harry.”  She explained, “He’s supposedly been all over the world, facing dark wizards and dangerous monsters of all description.  Then he writes it all down in his books, which sell quite well I understand.  Personally, I think he’s just a tad self-important.”

 

Harry thought it was a little funny that Narcissa Malfoy, of all people, thought someone else was self-important.

 

As they made their way gradually into the store, trying not to bump into the other witches and wizards waiting their turn, Harry heard a rather sudden gasp, and turned to see another familiar face.  Hermione Granger was in his year at Hogwarts; a bushy-haired, bossy girl who never seemed to stop talking.

 

The two people standing beside her could only be Hermione’s parents, Harry decided, seeing the protective way they edged closer, bolstering her.  Her father was tall and slim, his short hair the exact same shade as his daughter’s.  She had her mother’s eyes, however, and had obviously inherited her curls as well, even if Hermione hadn’t received the same nearly-black coloring.  They were both muggles, and since the Malfoys really didn’t care for muggles or witches born to muggle parents, Draco and Hermione had _not_ gotten along at all.

 

“Granger…”  Draco stated in a neutral tone.

 

“Malfoy…”  Hermione returned, just as guardedly.

 

“Hermione, is this the boy who…”  Hermione’s father trailed off when Hermione nodded.  The situation felt quite tense to Harry, and he wanted to get away from there as swiftly as possible.

 

“Is this one of your friends from school, Draco?” Narcissa inquired, offering a polite smile.  “You didn’t mention any of your friends were such _pretty_ girls.”  Harry stared, and Draco turned to level a horrified expression on his mother.  Meanwhile, Hermione’s parents relaxed visibly, while Hermione herself blushed pink all over her face.

 

“Mother, I…”

 

“Remember your manners, Draco, and introduce us?”

 

“Right.”  Draco took a moment to compose himself, “Mother, this is Mister and Missus Granger, and their daughter, Hermione, who’s in Gryffindor, and…” He glanced again at his mother, who flashed him a stern look that was gone so fast Harry could almost believe he hadn’t seen it, “I kind of shouted at her once in the library last year…  and I’m really sorry about that, I was mad, and having a bad day, and… I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”  Draco blurted out as he turned back to face Hermione, looking even more uncomfortable than Hagrid had a few moments earlier.

 

Narcissa continued to offer a warm smile as she extended a hand to Hermione and each of her parents in turn, pleased at the way Draco had responded.

 

“Hermione, Mister and Missus Granger, this is my mother, Narcissa Malfoy, and my best friend, Harry Potter.” Draco continued.

 

“Ah, well we’ve heard a great deal about you both.” Mr. Granger acknowledged while shaking Narcissa’s hand.

 

“Oh…”  Hermione was still blushing, and looked up at her parents before continuing, “Thank you, I didn’t realize, I thought, well you know I’ve heard some people talking, but I suppose I shouldn’t listen to rumors, and nobody in my dorm seems to like you, but I’d just sort of assumed, and you know what they say about assuming, but I’m glad the rumors weren’t true, and I accept your apology, and I’m sorry for getting so upset, I guess I just…”

 

Draco cut in before she could go on too much longer.  “I’ll see you at school.”  He still looked uncomfortable; he wasn’t used to apologizing, but the way Narcissa was coaxing him, it didn’t seem he had had much choice.

 

“It was very good to meet all of you.”  Narcissa assured them.

 

They moved away before the situation could get any more awkward.  “Why did you have me apologize like that?” Draco wondered aloud.

 

“In the present political climate it is not appropriate to express direct dislike of muggles or the muggle-born.”  Narcissa explained.  “You must have offended her pretty seriously, and I’ll admonish you to take more care in the future, Draco.  Is that why you were banned from the library?”  Draco nodded.  “Think before you act.  Your father and I have high expectations for you, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint us, now would you?”

 

“No mother, I wouldn’t.”  Draco was looking a bit less embarrassed, but thoughtful.

 

Narcissa waved down one of the salespeople working at the store, who seemed just as happy to get away from the crowd.  “We’ll be needing books for my son Draco, and his friend Harry, for Hogwarts, second year.” She explained.

 

The attendant’s eyes went wide, staring at the scar on Harry’s forehead.  “Harry… as in Harry Potter?”

 

And then a voice came from across the room, “It _can’t_ be Harry Potter?”  The crowd parted for a blonde wizard wearing a shade of pristine blue that exactly matched his eyes.  The assembled crowd was whispering and pointing at Harry as the man approached in two great strides.

 

Harry was grateful he didn’t squeak when the man took his hand, and forcibly turned both of them to face the gathering still lined up in front of what Harry could now see was a table, set with portraits of the very same man – all winking and smiling at everyone in the room – along with numerous stacks of books, most also bearing similar portraits.  It would seem Harry had just met Gilderoy Lockhart.

 

A man with a large black camera began furiously snapping photos of them as Lockhart greeted him warmly.  Puffs of purple smoke burst into the air with every blinding flash.  “Nice big smile, Harry.”  Gilderoy told him, “Together, you and I rate the front page!”

 

Harry rubbed his hands together when Lockhart finally released him, trying to get feeling back into his fingers.  He also tried to move back beside Narcissa – who seemed tolerantly amused by the whole ordeal – but Gilderoy wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and guided him with the same strong hand he’d just used to grip Harry’s.  “Ladies and gentlemen.”  He announced, quieting the crowd, “What an extraordinary moment this is!  The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time!

 

“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography.  He had _no idea_ , that he would be departing with signed copies of my entire works; free of charge.”  The crowd burst into applause as another attendant – a girl this time who had eyes only for Lockhart – deposited a heavy stack of books into Harry’s unsuspecting hands.  “What’s more!”  Gilderoy continued, drawing a hushed quiet charged with anticipation, “Not only will he be receiving my autobiography, ‘Magical Me’, but Harry and his classmates will, in fact, be getting the _real_ magical me.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September; I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

 

This was met with an even louder round of applause and somehow, Harry found himself back outside the crowd, standing next to Narcissa at last.  “What’s the matter, Harry?”  A familiar voice taunted.  Harry turned to see the tallish red haired Ronald Weasley standing in line with his family as Harry set his heavy stack of books on the nearest available surface.  Standing with Ron were the twins, Fred and George, whom Harry counted as friends.  Their older brother, the Gryffindor prefect Percy, regarded Harry and Draco coolly.  A little behind them and next to her Mother – a very kind-faced, matronly woman, who was shorter than any of her sons, even Ron – stood their younger sister, the smallest of the bunch, peeking at Harry curiously.  “You and he are obviously the same sort.” Ron continued when Harry didn’t answer right away, “That’s _you_ in another ten years.” He nodded back toward Lockhart.

 

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!”  The small girl poked her brother in the ribs.

 

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”  Said the twins, who had grown at least another inch since Harry had last seen them.  “Better not insult Ginny’s _boyfriend_!”  They crowed, and the girl, Ginny, blushed a furious shade of red almost the color of her hair and hid behind her mother.

 

“Harry’s already got a girlfriend.”  Draco couldn’t resist adding, even though Harry gave him a very pointed look not to go into it, “Didn’t you hear?  He fancies that Gryffindor seeker.  Bell, isn’t it?  Between her and those other two seekers, Harry can do better than a pint-sized Weasley in hand-me-down boy’s robes.”

 

Draco’s tone and expression were more than a little insulting, and Ron took several steps forward before Narcissa grabbed Draco’s sleeve, at about the same time Mrs. Weasley grabbed Ron’s shirt collar.  Between them they pulled Harry’s classmates out of reach of one another.

 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” Narcissa admonished in a harsh whisper, as Mrs. Weasley simultaneously reprimanded her son, “Let’s not start something unseemly in public.”

 

Just then, an older man appeared next to Mrs. Weasley, and Harry could immediately see where the Weasley’s had gotten their bright red hair, as – unlike their mother – Mr. Weasley had those same scarlet, slightly-mussed locks.  He was a tall man, taller even than Percy – the oldest Weasley still attending Hogwarts – with a very kind face and a friendly twinkle to his eyes as he smiled at his family then turned that same smile on Harry and Draco.   “Sorry I’m late, what did I miss?” He said to the room in general.

 

“Uh…”  Ron glanced at his family, sharing a strained look with the twins, and Percy, who each looked upset at what Draco had said, but then his mother shook her head, and he blurted out, “Harry got all of Lockhart’s books, for free, it’s not fair!”  Ron grumbled, still glaring at Draco.  Ginny was hiding now behind her father, and Mrs. Weasley did not look happy, but Harry guessed she didn’t want her son starting a scene either.

 

“Harry, is it?”  Mr. Weasley seemed very pleased to be there, and Harry instantly decided that he liked Mr. Weasley.

 

“Yes sir.”  Harry replied, “Harry Potter.”  He glanced to where Narcissa had pulled Draco away to another part of the store, wishing he had also been whisked away.

 

“Is it really?  Ron, why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Harry Potter?”  Mr. Weasley said to his youngest son.

 

“I’m not…” Ron protested.

 

“But _we_ are, and we’ve been telling you all summer.”  Fred and George chimed, in unison.

 

“Oh no you haven’t.”  Mr. Weasley responded quickly, still with a jovial smile on his face.

 

“Arthur.”  Mrs. Weasley broke in, “Fred and George are right.  They’ve been talking about their friend Harry since before they even got home.  He’s come up as the subject of almost every dinner conversation all summer.”

 

“You mean… when you said ‘your friend Harry, from school’, you meant… Harry Potter?”  Arthur seemed amazed and quickly turned back to an embarrassed Harry.  His books had disappeared from the table next to him, he noted.

 

“Very pleased to meet you.”  Arthur shook Harry’s hand vigorously.  “Fred and George have told us so much about you and everything you’d gotten up to together at school last year.  Is it true you blew up a toilet?” he asked with an excited and conspiratorial tone.

 

Harry stammered out his answer, “That was them!” noticing, too late, the twins motioning for him to keep quiet.

 

Their mother turned swiftly on the two, rather suddenly turning ferocious, which was a rather startling transformation.  “I can’t believe I… _believed_ you when you told us Harry blew up that toilet, instead of you!”  She hissed, unmindful of the gawking crowd.

 

Harry was saved from having to watch them be scolded by the arrival of Lucius who stepped up behind Harry, and addressed Mr. Weasley.  “Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley.”  He was not quite sneering as he stood with his hand on Harry’s shoulder.  The rest of the Weasleys moved ahead with the line, not noticing the sudden confrontation brewing between the two men as Mrs. Weasley continued berating her sons.

 

“Lucius,” Arthur replied, nodding with a similar expression of distaste as the one Lucius wore.  He glanced at Harry, the hand on his shoulder, then back at Mr. Malfoy.  “I didn’t know you and Harry Potter were friends.”

 

“I’ve been having him at Malfoy Manor most the summer.”  Lucius smiled fondly at Harry, “My son Draco is in all of Harry’s classes at Hogwarts, they’ve become very close, as you must have heard.  Haven’t your sons told you?”

 

“They hadn’t mentioned it.”  He glanced back at where Fred, George, and Ron had moved a bit further up the line with their mother.  Only the daughter, Ginny, had lingered behind with her father, still watching Harry with wide eyes, though she averted her gaze the moment she saw him looking back.

 

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear.”  Lucius added when the silence began to stretch, “All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime?”  He reached a hand into the cauldron Ginny carried in both arms that was filled with books, and extracted a rather worn and battered copy of ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration’.  “Obviously not,” He continued, one eyebrow arched in feigned surprise.  “Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard, if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

 

Mr. Weasley’s eyes darkened, and he flushed a bit red.  “We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy.”

 

“Clearly.”  Lucius shook his head.

 

“I’d thank you not to touch my daughter’s things.” Arthur added through gritted teeth, stepping in between Lucius and Ginny.

 

“I can assure you I take no pleasure in touching anything you or your family could afford.”  Lucius drawled.  His eyes blazing, Arthur stepped forwards, and Harry glanced wildly around, afraid that Mr. Weasley would throw a punch at Mr. Malfoy.

 

But Lucius quickly thrust the unkempt book back into Ginny’s cauldron, and Arthur backed down grudgingly.  “I’d be lying if I said I was sorry you’ll be wasting your time when you get around to coming by Malfoy Manor.  And when you try the vaults in Gringotts you’ll find yourself equally disappointed.”  Lucius smiled, as if he knew something Arthur didn’t.  “Someone as unimaginative as you probably thinks I’m foolish enough to keep _contraband_ just lying about.  Well I can assure you, even if I owned anything incriminating, I would never be so careless as to leave it anywhere _you_ could stumble across it.”

 

Whatever Arthur may have replied, Harry would never know, for Lucius turned and guided Harry away with a firm hand.  “Unwarranted search and seizure of such prominent law abiding citizens would never be tolerated in wizarding America for one tiny instant.”  Lucius muttered, almost too softly for Harry to hear.  “Nor would mere ownership of potentially dangerous artifacts be a criminal offense.  It’s just a shame that America _doesn’t_ understand the value of blood.”

 

Lucius glanced down at Harry as if just realizing he was still there, and gave him a strained smile.  “Forgive me, Harry, I have a lot on my mind.  Have you purchased all of your books yet?”

 

“Not yet, Lockhart gave me a set of _his_ books, but I still have to buy a few more.  Lockhart’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.”  Harry heaved a huge sigh of relief now that the tension between Arthur and Lucius was easing palpably from the air.  He remembered Narcissa telling him and Draco that the two of them had argued over policy at the Ministry more than once.  There must still be a lot of bad blood between them.

 

“Then let’s get everything you’re missing, and we can send the books home with Dobby before getting lunch.  How does that sound?”

 

“I need to get something for my soothstone homework too.”  Harry reminded him.  And in addition to his school books, Lucius helped him pick out a book entitled ‘Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Legilimency, but Were Afraid to Ask’.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry determined to study as hard as he could, so he could prove to Snape that he wasn’t a slacker.  That determination was tested sorely in the following weeks, but when September 1st came around he felt a certain pride in the final draft of the essay he’d composed.

 

“Are you sure you didn’t forget anything?” Narcissa asked them as they stood on Platform Nine and Three Quarters where the train to Hogwarts was getting ready to depart.

 

“If we have, we’ll write to you.” Draco promised.  Most of their luggage was on the train already – carried there magically by Dobby – but Harry and Draco each had a few parcels in hand, including their brooms.  Now that they were second years Draco was allowed take his new racing broom with him to school.  The Nimbus 2001 was faster than Harry’s Wind Chaser, but Harry’s broom was a bit more maneuverable, and had a few handy extra charms to boot.

 

For once, they didn’t play chess on the train, but instead Harry had Draco quiz him on everything he’d learned about soothstones, and various parallel subjects, such as legilimency, occlumency, veritaserum, and methods to fool truth magic just in case Snape decided to test Harry with more than just the essay.  They also enjoyed some snacks and candy from the train’s trolley and chatted with their friends Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Blaise Zabini.

 

As the sun began to set, Harry – a little tired from the quizzing – turned to Blaise, “So what were you up to over the summer?”  He asked.

 

“Oh I’ve been working on my quidditch moves.  I’m planning to try out for the Slytherin team this year.” The dark skinned wizard replied.  He was a tallish boy, but no where near as large or imposing as either Greg or Vince.  But unlike the other two, he was quite quick witted.

 

“We’re going to try out too.”  Greg cut in, gesturing to him and Vincent, filling the bench across from Harry, Draco, and Blaise all by themselves.  Greg was a little shorter than Vince, but only just.  And, both were thick built, with strong arms and brooding brows that more than once had earned them the insult ‘hairless gorillas’.

 

“Think you’ve got a shot?”  Draco inquired.

 

“I don’t know, what about you, Draco?”  Vincent asked.  He tended to be the quieter of the two, and some people seemed to take that to mean he was less intelligent.  But Harry knew that he just spent more time thinking about his words.

 

“Me and Harry practiced a lot.”  The blonde boy replied.  Draco had once told Harry that the Malfoys, Crabbes, and Goyles had a long history of family friendship, and Greg and Vince, being Draco’s age, had spent a lot of time with him when they were younger, and would look out for him when other children might have picked on him, as Draco, like Harry, tended to be on the small side.

 

“Not as much as I would have liked.” Harry added, “I wasn’t allowed to get my broom out for the first part of the summer, and then I’ve been working on this essay for the last few weeks now.”

 

“That’s rotten luck.”  Blaise offered Harry a sympathetic smile, “I’m glad Snape didn’t assign _me_ any homework over the summer.”

 

Everyone heartily agreed with Blaise’ sentiment.  Even Draco felt Snape was perhaps being a bit too harsh, and they all knew how fond he was of his godfather.

 

It was after dark when the train slowed to a stop at the Hogsmead station, and students began exiting onto the platform.  They couldn’t see the school through the trees or intervening hill in the way.  “Second years, please come this way,” a voice carried over the crowds of milling students.  Harry and his friends followed the sound to find probably their least favorite teacher in the whole school, Professor McGonagall.

 

It wasn’t that she was mean, or unfair with them, but she had a nose for trouble and she could be very strict, and each of them had a bit of a habit for smelling of trouble.  She was also the head of House Gryffindor, and while Harry and Draco’s friends the Weasley twins were members of that house, most of their fiercest rivals were also Gryffindors, including Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and – most especially – Seamus Finnigan.  McGonagall was a stern older woman who was most often seen wearing very dark green robes, and a wide brimmed pointed hat when she was outside, like she was now.

 

“Second years will join the rest of the students in the coaches.”  McGonagall explained, directing them to a line of carriages waiting to take them up the tree lined path to the castle itself.  The previous year, they had gone with Hagrid down to the lake and across in little boats, but all the older students were using the coaches.

 

The five of them sat together in one of the coaches, and as each carriage filled, they were pulled as if by invisible horses up the road, where the castle finally came into view.

 

Harry had to smile.  Hogwarts was his favorite place in the whole world, and he loved seeing it like this; all the windows alight, spires hiding the stars in the distance, and the great doors opening to greet them.  He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of arriving at school.  They didn’t worry about their trunks, they knew they’d be brought in separately, but once their coaches stopped in front of the great hall, they got out and joined the throng of students milling their way into the dining hall and finding seats.

 

There were four long tables along the length of the hall, one for each house, and another table at the far end on a raised platform where the teachers sat during meals.  Harry spotted the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, in the center of the head table, as well as many of his other teachers.  McGonagall spoke briefly with Dumbledore and then left the room once all the year two and higher students were seated.  Harry knew what was coming next, having endured it his first year, and turned to look back at the door where McGonagall had gone.  The first years would soon arrive and go through the sorting ceremony to determine which house they’d be in during all seven school years.

 

Harry saw Hagrid enter the great hall and take a seat at one end of the high table, and only a few minutes later the doors of the great hall opened once again admitting McGonagall with a host of curious and nervous looking first years trailing in her wake.  She led them up to the front and turned them to face the rest of the students as she placed a stool right in front of the high table, then set a battered old pointed hat on top of it.  After a few moments the hat shifted, the wrinkles scrunching together in places to form a face, and it began to sing:

 

Another year, another sorting,

I’ll greet you each by name.

I bet you all are wondering,

What is this strange hat’s game?

 

Well let me tell you, one and all,

Of how I came to be:

The Hogwarts Founders on who to teach,

Did often disagree.

 

Wise Lady Ravenclaw,

Had a specific creed.

That only the best and brightest,

Would her house deign to lead.

 

Gentle Madam Hufflepuff,

Prized a hard-working heart.

And so declared that her house,

Would always do their part.

 

Just and stalwart Gryffindor,

Had courage in abundance.

And so the brave and true were brought,

To his house’s attendance.

 

Lastly cunning Slytherin,

Was often heard to say.

That only those of strong ambition,

Should be allowed to stay.

 

And at the start, they each would teach,

Only those they favored.

“But how to choose the students’ house,

Once we’re gone?” they wondered.

 

It was Gryffindor who swept,

The hat from his own head.

“Let’s make it smart, and let it choose,

Forever more!” he said.

 

So step right up, and try me on,

I’ll tell where you belong.

I’ll peek inside, and sort you straight;

Thus ends the Sorting Song!

 

When the hat finished, the room stood and applauded, cheering as it bent its tip down several times in its form of a bow.  Harry clapped right along with all the others, and then quieted as McGonagall unrolled her long scroll and began reading names in alphabetical order.

 

McGonagall scanned her list then looked out with her stern gaze across the assembled students and called, “Andrews, Linda.”  A first year girl with her brown hair in braids approached the stool nervously, and then McGonagall lowered the hat onto her head, obscuring the top half of her face.

 

After a few moments the hat shouted, “Ravenclaw!” across the room.

 

Once Linda was seated at the Ravenclaw table and the Ravenclaws were done cheering, McGonagall announced the next name on her list, “Archer, Erin.”  The girl who took the stool this time had very dark hair that curled about her face as she worried her lower lip while the hat was placed on her head.

 

Shortly, the hat decided, “Gryffindor!” And a relieved Erin hurried to join her new classmates, who greeted her with cheers and applause.

 

Next up, McGonagall called, “Bainbridge, Tabitha.”  And Draco perked up noticeably upon hearing the name.

 

“Do you know her?” Harry asked, as the short honey-haired girl sat on the stool.

 

“No, but my father has talked to me about someone named Bainbridge that he works with at the Ministry.”  Draco explained.

 

“Slytherin!” The hat cried, and Tabitha strolled serenely to sit right next to Gemma Farley directly across from Harry himself.

 

After that was Natalie Barons, who was sorted into Hufflepuff, then finally the first boy, Cameron Bole.

 

“That’s my cousin.”  Lucian whispered a little ways down the table.  Lucian Bole had been a beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team the previous year.

 

“Slytherin!”  The hat announced almost before it had touched Cameron’s hair.  Harry clapped and cheered with the rest as Cameron moved down the table to take a seat beside his cousin.

 

“Carlson, Jennifer.” McGonagall announced next, and Harry watched a determined girl with short brown hair step up to the stool and sit down so McGonagall could put the hat on her head.  Almost immediately the hat shouted, “Hufflepuff!” and a surprised but pleased Jennifer bounded towards the Hufflepuff table to be greeted warmly by her new house mates.

 

Next up was Rachael Codnor, who was sorted into Gryffindor, and then Colin Creevey, a short skinny boy with wide brown eyes who almost tripped getting onto the stool cause he was too busy looking up at the enchanted ceiling – bewitched to reflect the appearance of the sky outside – which at the moment meant it was covered in stars, mirroring the thousands of flickering candles hovering a little below it.  It took the hat a little longer to decide, but Colin had still only been sitting a few moments before it shouted “Gryffindor!” across the room.

 

Draco booed as Colin – the first new Gryffindor boy – was welcomed by his new house, but quieted abruptly when Harry turned a stern eye on him.  “Yeah I know, I promised to do better.” Draco whispered.

 

Harry smiled, grateful that Draco had remembered his promise not to bully people from the previous year.  It seemed so long ago now, but it was really only a few months.  Harry’s attention was drawn back to the sorting ceremony by a loud shout of “Slytherin!”

 

“What was his name?  I missed it?” Harry asked of their prefect, Gemma Farley across from him.

 

“Sebastian Daley.”  She responded automatically as McGonagall started on the next name.

 

After him was Rohit Das, a round faced boy with dark skin and hair, who was sorted into Hufflepuff, then Margaret Ettington, a pretty but slightly chubby dark haired witch who was sorted into Ravenclaw.

 

Harry turned then to listen to the conversation Blaise was having with Peter Connolly, another of last year’s Quidditch Players, but almost missed the name of the next first year to be sorted into Slytherin, Damon Gosforth.  Who was followed immediately afterwards by yet another Slytherin boy, Jim Harper.

 

 “You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?”  Jim asked as he took a seat and leaned his elbows on the table to smile at Harry, “I’m Jim Harper, I’ve heard a lot about you.  I was really surprised when I heard you were a Slytherin.”

 

“A lot of people were.” Harry admitted, but gave the boy a friendly smile just the same.

 

After Jim was the tallest eleven-year-old Harry had ever seen – Gabe Henson – who was sorted into Ravenclaw, then a tiny little Asian girl, Manami Ichijoh.  The hat took a little longer determining her, but it eventually shouted, “Slytherin!” and she gave a shy smile to her new classmates as she came to their table and took a seat.

 

Harry was once more distracted, and when he looked back at the stool, there was a girl with very long white-blonde hair taking a seat there.  She could have been a Malfoy, just going off her hair, but her gentle dreamy smile would have looked very out of place on Draco or Lucius’ face.

 

She sat there in silence, as the hat debated where to put her, no doubt whispering in her ear as it tried to decide.  The girl swayed back and forth slowly, and as the room grew quieter while they all waited, Harry thought he heard her humming.

 

“What’s taking so long?” Someone asked, their voice carrying clearly despite their low tone.  McGonagall glared at the offending speaker and they all waited some more.  A muttering began to rise among the students, particularly those at the back furthest from the teacher’s table.

 

Finally, looking slightly worried, Professor McGonagall leaned down, and said something too softly for anyone else to hear.  Harry couldn’t tell if she was speaking to the Sorting Hat or the one who wore it, but the blonde girl cocked her head to one side, nodded, and then went back to swaying.  Her lips moved briefly, though Harry couldn’t make out any words, and finally the hat shouted out, in a tone that Harry thought sounded mildly relieved, “Ravenclaw!”

 

Oblivious to the whispers flying around the room, Ravenclaw’s newest house member skipped over to the Ravenclaw table and received a warm welcome, and a round of applause.

 

“Who on earth was that?”  Harry asked no one in particular.

 

“Her name was Luna something.”  Draco supplied.  “Lovejoy, I think… We were up to Ls…?”

 

Everyone had become somewhat restless waiting on Luna’s sorting.  Harry made note of another Hufflepuff, Eloise Midgen, who was sorted immediately after Luna, and two more Slytherins, Moira O’Riley, and Annalise Priest, who sat down across from Harry, and then began giggling and whispering to each other as soon as they recognized him.

 

Harry’s attention wandered again, as he chatted with Draco, but there was one more Slytherin to be sorted, a boy named Norman Stacey.  Directly after him Harry watched as Jason Swan was sorted into Gryffindor.

 

Draco and Harry both paused their conversation again when they heard the last name McGonagall called out, “Weasley, Ginevra!”

 

“Hey, it’s that girl who liked you!” Draco observed.

 

“Now don’t _you_ start.  The twins are bad enough.”  Harry jabbed Draco’s arm, “Besides, Fred and George were just teasing, like you were about Katie Bell.”  They watched the young red headed girl who had defended Harry at Flourish and Blotts take a seat on the stool.  There were no more first years waiting after her, and she looked a bit nervous to have all eyes on her.

 

She met Harry’s gaze for an instant before the Sorting Hat was lowered onto her head, obscuring her vision.  There was a short pause, though most the rest of the room returned to chatting quietly.  Harry was curious, however, as the hat again took longer than usual before announcing, “You’re, Gryffindor!”

 

McGonagall took the hat away, and Ginny moved to join her brothers – Ron, Fred, George, and Percy – at the Gryffindor table.  She was blushing heatedly, and when she glanced at Harry she turned an even pinker shade, making Harry wonder if maybe there was some truth behind the twins teasing.

 

When McGonagall returned from stowing the stool and hat back wherever they were stored, Dumbledore stood to say a few words to all the assembled students.  As he had the previous year, what he said didn’t make a lot of sense to Harry, but he smiled patiently, knowing that when the speech was over they could dig into their start-of-term feast.

 

There was a gasp from the first years when the food appeared all at once on the long tables in front of them, and Harry grinned a little wider when he saw their surprise.  He dug right in, starting with his favorite pumpkin pasties.

 

“You know, I’ve heard magicked food can be harder to digest.”  The girl, Annalise Priest, across from Harry was saying.  “It’s better to make food the mundane way, and _then_ transport it to the table with magic, I read all about it in ‘The Witch’s Guide to Culinary Enchantment’.”

 

Harry just shook his head, and enjoyed his food, as well as the conversation.

 

Before he knew it, Dumbledore was standing again, calling for quiet and adding a few more words.  He reminded students to stay clear of the dark forest, but made no mention of third floor corridors, painful deaths, or other dire warnings.  After that they all headed for bed.  Harry found his things right where they belonged, in the Slytherin dorm room he shared with Draco, and the other Slytherins his age, six beds altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun and interesting chapter. Introducing Lockhart wasn’t something I was originally looking forwards to, but writing him has been more enjoyable than I’d thought it would be. More to come, of course, but I hope I did a decent job setting the stage for the rest of the year.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think. Feedback never gets old, positive or otherwise (though constructive is always the best kind, aye?). Cheers!
> 
> Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.


	3. Chapter 3 – Settling In to Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco get back into their school routine. Events are already conspiring to make the year another interesting one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere. No cussing, no adult situations, no violence.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.

The following morning found Harry and his friends in the banquet hall once more, where Snape passed out their schedules for the year, levitating them all down Slytherin table with a casual wave of his hand.  Harry propped his up against his mug so he could read while he ate.  “First class is Lockhart.” He observed to Draco.  “Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Then Doubles Transfiguration with Hufflepuff.”

 

“We get Doubles Transfiguration this y…?” Draco began, but was interrupted by Annalise Priest.

 

“Lockhart, as in, Gilderoy Lockhart?!” The dark haired girl from the previous night squealed, causing both Draco and Harry to stop for a moment and stare, as her pale thin face lit up with eager excitement, her mouth moving animatedly, and not even seeming to pause long enough for breath.  “I’ve read all his books, it’s really amazing that he’s done so many great things, always in the right place at the right time, I heard he has a charm that helps him get to places he needs to be in time to be useful, I wish I had him first, but my schedule doesn’t show Defense Against the Dark Arts until later this evening, but maybe you guys can tell me what it was like at lunch, if I…”

 

“Yeah, maybe we’ll do that.”  Harry interrupted with a nervous glance at Draco.  Draco seemed more amused then offended, which bothered Harry just a little, since he’d shouted at Hermione Granger just last spring for rambling on just as Annalise was doing now.  Both girls were slender, and bookish, with pale skin, but there the resemblance ended.  Where Hermione’s hair was bushy, and brown, Annalise had straight black hair that was currently in a pony tail to keep it out of her face.  She also wore silver rimmed glasses that emphasized her bright green eyes.

 

“Yeah, we’ll take notes or something.”  Draco agreed.  “Who do you have first?” He added.

 

Priest checked her schedule again, and Harry noticed with mild dismay that the girl had already highlighted half of her classes in different colors, and as he watched she produced a marker with which to highlight Lockhart’s classes with subtly shifting iridescent glitter.  “Looks like I’ve got charms first, I’ve tried a few charms, none of them have worked for me yet, but maybe I’ll learn better from this Flitwick guy, is it true he’s half goblin?  I read that’s why he’s so short, and I always say…”

 

“We’d better get going to class.” Harry managed.  He was mostly full, and normally he’d stay and chat with the other Slytherins, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to sit and listen to Annalise continue on about their various teachers.

 

“What do you make of that?” He asked Draco once they were in the corridor heading to the Slytherin common room to grab their things.

 

“Guess her parents couldn’t keep her out of the library.” Draco chuckled.

 

“It doesn’t bother you, how much she talks?”

 

“Why should it?”

 

Harry shook his head, “She doesn’t remind of anyone?”

 

“Err, no… Should she?”

 

“ _Granger_?” Harry was a little astonished that Draco hadn’t made the same connection he had.

 

Draco stopped, and blinked several times, “Now that you mention it, I guess she does a little.  I hadn’t thought of that. But she’s not the same; she’s a Slytherin for one thing.”

 

“And that makes _all_ the difference.” Harry muttered, rolling his eyes.

 

“Well, it makes a difference, maybe not all the difference, but at least some, right?”

 

Harry sighed, “Oh just forget it…” He wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to renew their argument about it either.

 

They were among the first to arrive, and they were the first boys into the classroom.  They found seats near the middle, and set down their heavy stacks of books assigned for the course.  Harry tried to ignore Lockhart’s brilliant, white-toothed, smiling face winking at him from the top of his pile.

 

Lockhart himself entered when the chairs were about half full.  He stood at the front and examined them each briefly before heading up the stairs into his office and coming back down into the room with a covered bird cage in hand, and a neat stack of parchment floating behind him.  Twice more he went up the stairs behind his desk and returned with more mysterious things, vials of strange liquids, boxes that shuddered when he placed them on the desk, and a large hourglass with the sand frozen at the top.  Harry was starting to get a little nervous.

 

Once the entire class had arrived, Lockhart began, clearing his throat for silence before picking up the top book off of Theodore Nott’s desk and holding it up to show his dazzling portrait next to his actual face, “Me,” he said, winking just as the portraits kept doing, “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of ‘Witch Weekly’s’ Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don’t talk about that.  I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her.”

 

He paused there, waiting expectantly, but no one seemed especially amused.  “But enough about me – has everyone bought a complete set of my books?”  There were acknowledgements around the room, and a couple people grudgingly piled some of the books they’d initially left off their desks on top of the others.  Once each desk had all seven books atop it, Lockhart continued.  “Now, to see how well you’ve read the books, and how much you’ve taken in, I’ve prepared a Quiz.”

 

“We’re supposed to have read them already?”  Gregory Goyle interrupted, looking aghast, “All… all seven of them?!  But, what if we only just got our books a few days ago?”

 

“A few days is more than enough time for most avid readers to peruse a set of books like these.  They aren’t even exceptionally long – individually.”

 

“I didn’t know Goyle reads.” Draco muttered, drawing a chuckle from Harry.

 

“Don’t worry.”  Lockhart continued, “This quiz doesn’t affect your grade.”  He was already passing out quiz papers.  When he was finished he returned to the front, “You have thirty minutes – start – _now_!” He said as he tapped the hourglass on his desk with his wand, starting the golden sand sifting downward.

 

Harry hadn’t done more than skim through a couple of the books himself, and the questions seemed to have nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Most were somewhat frivolous, things like, ‘Where does Gilderoy Lockhart go when he needs a confidence boost?’ or ‘What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite vacation destination?’.  The allotted thirty minutes passed, and Harry looked up to see Lockhart fiddling with the hourglass, watching as the last bit of sand had somehow slowed to a crawl.  It was a few more minutes before the top glass was empty, and the professor turned to call for their finished tests.  Harry was certain he’d failed the whole thing, but handed in his paper with every answer filled in anyway.

 

Lockhart took a few moments looking over the tests while shaking his head, “Tut tut; I can’t believe some of you don’t remember that my birthday is January twenty-sixth, or that I played Seeker for my house team during my own years at Hogwarts.”  He scanned through the pages a little longer, then put the quizzes away and went behind his desk to retrieve the covered cage he’d brought in earlier, setting it right at the front of his desk close to the first row of students.

 

“We have just enough time for this.” He began, after glancing at Harry and flashing another broad smile, “Now – be warned!  It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!  You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room.  Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here.  All I ask is that you remain calm.”

 

Harry couldn’t resist trying to get a closer look at the cage, leaning around his stack of books to see, and wondering what could be inside.

 

“I must ask you not to scream.” Lockhart was saying, “It might… PROVOKE THEM!”  With the last words he ripped the covering from the cage revealing a dozen or so blue skinned people with butterfly wings, each about eight inches in height.  They immediately began to chatter in high pitched squeaky voices, and though no one screamed at the sight of them, several people did snicker.  “ _Freshly caught Cornish Pixies_!”  Lockhart explained.

 

“Who can tell me, what is the best charm to subdue a pixie?” He asked, beaming widely at their shocked faces, no doubt mistaking it for awe.

 

“No one?” He raised an eyebrow, and finally a hand went up near the back of the class.  All the students turned to see who was volunteering an answer.  It was Pansy Parkinson; a small girl in their year with neat black hair that just brushed her shoulders, a small round button nose, and vivid blue eyes.  She wasn’t someone Harry knew well, despite sharing all the same classes the previous year, but he recalled she was fond of teasing, particularly when it came to the Gryffindor girls close to their age.

 

“My mother likes to use the Confundus and Banishing charms, in that order.” She explained, her expression difficult to read.

 

“Your mother must be a clever witch.” Lockhart smiled once more, “But, why use two charms, when one will suffice?  Everyone repeat after me: _Peskipiksi Pesternomi_.”

 

There were more chuckles, but most the students complied, repeating the incantation aloud several times.  Then Lockhart turned back to the cage.  “Ready your wands, children.  Let’s see how you handle these.”  And then he opened the doors with a flourish…  Immediately the pixies burst forth, flying all over the room, and causing havoc wherever they went.  A scream accompanied the sound of breaking glass as two pixies rocketed through the window.  There were shouts of ‘peskipiksi pesternomi’ from several of the students, but there was little noticeable effect.

 

“Confundo!”  Pansy Parkinson shouted, stunning a group of the pixies, and drawing short-lived cheers from a few nearby classmates, but the cheers were abruptly cut off when the effected pixies began flying again, even more manic than before.

 

“Come on now – round them up, round them up, they’re only pixies!”  Lockhart shouted, drawing his own wand and rolling back his sleeves.  “Peskipiksi Pesterno…!” He shouted, but one of the pixies grabbed his wand just as he finished, and threw it out the broken window.

 

“Confundo!” Harry shouted while waving his wand, since that was the only thing so far that seemed to have any real effect.  Draco took up the incantation too after a moment, and while the pixies were disoriented by the spell, they were still causing mayhem; they were just a bit less deliberate about it.

 

“Pansy, what was the other charm?” Harry asked, ducking under his desk just in time to avoid being rammed in the nose by one of the pixies.

 

“Banishing.”  She replied breathlessly, also taking cover, “But I don’t know how to do that one.”

 

“I do.” Draco grinned and leapt atop his desk to call out, “Depulso!”  A pair of pixies shot through the air away from his wand tip, and knocked into one of Lockhart’s no-longer-winking portraits behind his desk, sending the painting’s occupant diving for cover beneath the picture frame.  Painting and pixies fell with a crash and two little whumps on top of the desk, where the real Lockhart was now hiding beneath.

 

“Depulso!” Harry tried to no effect.

 

More Slytherins were up, trying to cast the spell, and a few of them even succeeded.  Harry tried mimicking the way Draco swished his wand, and this time, the spell worked for him.

 

“Well done, well done!” Lockhart was back out from under his desk, “Though this would have been over much faster if you’d all been able to successfully use the Pest Banishing charm _I_ taught you.”

 

Just then the bell rang, and several of the dazed pixies jerked back into the air, startled by the noise.  Students ran for the door, leaving only a few behind, including Harry and Draco.

 

“Well, I’ll ask you five to just nip them back into their cage.”  Lockhart told them, as he too made for the door and was gone.

 

Harry, Draco, Gregory, Vincent, and Pansy just stared for a moment.  Then Greg yelped as one of the pixies flew right at him.  It took them a number of minutes to get the remaining dazed and confused pixies all back in the cage, and then they ran as fast as they could to Transfiguration.  But were still late.

 

“And just where have you five been?”  McGonagall asked coolly.

 

“Sorry, Professor.”  Harry wheezed out.  “Lockhart made us help with cleanup.”

 

She gave them a stern look, but then said, “Very well.  One point from each of you.  But it’ll be ten points if I discover you were false.”

 

Draco grumbled, but thankfully said nothing, as the five of them took their seats.  Harry thought they’d gotten off fairly easily, so counted himself lucky.

 

* * * * *

 

The next day was a little easier.  They had two free periods in the morning after Charms class, and they decided to go visit their friend Hagrid, whom Harry had only seen briefly in Diagon Alley that summer.  When they arrived, Hagrid smiled at them warmly.

 

“ ‘Ello ‘Arry!” Hagrid was carrying an armload of chopped firewood which he deposited on a pile next to one side of his hut.  An armload for Hagrid meant that the pile was now nearly as tall as Harry and Draco, after what looked like Hagrid’s second trip.  “An’ Hello Draco.  It’s nice ter see yer both.  How was yer summer?”

 

“Harry spent most the summer with me at the Manor.”  Draco explained.  “We had loads of fun, didn’t we Harry?”

 

“Yeah we did.”  Hagrid started to invite them into his one room house, but paused as something occurred to him.

 

“Let me show ye summat I been workin’ on.” He started around towards the back of his house.

 

“Uh… Hagrid?”  Harry was suddenly nervous.  “This isn’t like the last time you were ‘working’ on something, is it?”  Last year Hagrid had acquired an illegal dragon egg from a mysterious person who’d turned out to be Voldemort trying to steal the philosopher’s stone.  When Dumbledore had learned about it, he’d had the Dragon shipped off to Romania, and Harry and Draco had lost 50 points for their House, and had to serve detention to boot.

 

It had turned out alright in the end, particularly since Draco and Hagrid had grown to be very good friends helping each other raise the baby dragon.  “We’re not going to get in trouble for this, are we?”  Draco added, catching Harry’s train of thought, “I still have some of that antidote potion, but I left it at home.  I didn’t think I’d be needing it again so soon…”

 

 “Nothin’ like Norbert.”  Hagrid assured them.  “I bin growin’ pumpkins, fer tha Halloween feast.”  They came around the side of the house and Harry saw them.  Twelve enormous pumpkins nestled in Hagrid’s vegetable garden, each already taller than Harry was.

 

“They’re huge!” Draco observed.  Harry wondered if his own eyes were as wide as his friend’s.

 

“I’ve given them a bit o’ help.” Hagrid admitted.

 

Harry’s gaze was drawn to the pink umbrella leaning up against the side of Hagrid’s hut.  He had reason to believe Hagrid’s wand was concealed within it.  Since Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts when he wasn’t much older than Harry, he wasn’t technically supposed to do magic anymore.  But Harry had witnessed him cast a few spells with the umbrella once or twice.

 

“An engorgement charm?” Draco mused, and Hagrid’s sheepish shuffle of his overlarge feet was all the answer they needed.

 

They’d been inside the hut for almost an hour when Hedwig flew in through the window with an envelope clutched in her beak.  “What’s this then?” Hagrid asked, as Harry took the letter.  “ ‘spectin’ mail?”

 

“No, and we already got mail at breakfast.”  Harry opened the letter, and read through the note’s very precise and tidy scrawl:

 

Mr. Potter,

Trusting that you remembered the homework you were assigned over the summer, I was under the impression that you would seize the opportunity afforded by having two free periods this morning to turn it in.  But since you did not arrive in my office, I have little choice but to assume that either you forgot about your homework, or simply disregarded the importance of turning it in for credit in a timely manner.

Professor S. Snape

 

“You’d better get going.” Draco gasped when Harry read it aloud.  “You really don’t want to keep Severus waiting.”

 

Harry thought it was a little unfair for Snape to assume he would think of turning in his homework this morning.  It honestly hadn’t occurred to him and now it sounded like he might get in trouble over it.  He wished he’d had his broom in hand, as he ran out the door and sprinted up the lawn, heading towards the Slytherin common room to grab some of his books and the essay he’d written.

 

“Where is it?”  Harry was searching his trunk, and so far was unable to find the essay.  It occurred to him, he hadn’t really packed his things, Dobby had, and he didn’t know where Dobby had put the essay or if he’d included it at all.

 

“Where’d you put it, Dobby?” He hissed, as he started tossing his clothes onto the bed.

 

There was a pop, and then standing on one green sweater was the Malfoy’s house elf.  Harry was so startled he fell backwards onto his rump to stare up at the diminutive creature in shock.

 

“Dobby!”  He gasped.

 

“Yes, Dobby is here.  Master Harry Potter called for Dobby, sir?”

 

Harry supposed that qualified as calling, but then… “Dobby, you’re not my house elf, how is it you came when I called?”

 

“Dobby has been watching wonderful Master Harry, sir.  He wanted to make sure Master Harry Potter was settling in well to school.”

 

Harry sighed, but he supposed he couldn’t complain, this would actually help him after all.  “Dobby, I need the essay I did at the end of the summer, I need to take it to Professor Snape.”

 

Dobby hopped down to the floor beside Harry’s trunk, and snapped his fingers.  “Dobby has found it, sir.” He said when Harry’s potion book flew into the elf’s outstretched hand from his desk.  Dobby opened the front cover and showed Harry the essay folded neatly inside.

 

“Brilliant.  I’m sorry Dobby but I can’t stay.”  Harry quickly grabbed the book as well as his other things, and tucked them under his arm.  “Thanks loads, now you should probably get back to the manor.  I’ll see you later.”

 

“Dobby is happy to help, sir!”  The elf said before winking out of sight with another little pop.

 

The bells rang eleven o-clock just as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs into the hall where Snape’s office was located.  He rushed down the corridor and burst into the room without knocking, startling Snape who was sorting a set of vials on the shelf behind him.

 

 “You’re late.”  The Potion’s Master informed him, and motioned for Harry to take a seat.  Harry’s breath heaved in and out of his lungs, and he was unable to respond for several moments.  Snape was thin, with black eyes and equally black hair down to his shoulders.  He’d always struck Harry as a very cold, and secretive type, who spoke deliberately, and usually snidely, particularly when speaking to Gryffindor students, or to Harry himself.  Although Harry thought things had changed a bit towards the end of the previous year, but whether the changes were good or bad, he had yet to decide.

 

“I’m sorry… Professor… I only just got your note...” he wheezed, gulping down air, and starting to catch his breath at last, “Came as fast as I could.”

 

“You have quite a talent for stating the obvious, Potter.” Snape’s tone was bored, yet snide, as he slid a sheet of paper across the desk, right in front of Harry.  “I expect you have completed your essay?”

 

“Yeah I did, I’ve got it right here.”  He opened his potions book and withdrew it to hand to Snape.

 

Harry then took a moment to glance over the paper Snape had placed in front of him, and realized it was a quiz, written just for him.  A quiz to determine how much he’d learned about soothstones over the summer.  Harry checked his pockets, glad that he’d kept a quill and some ink on hand after his last class, and took just a few minutes longer to compose himself before he started on the test while Snape reviewed his essay.  He felt fairly confident in his answers, but also feared he’d gotten at least one or two questions wrong.

 

Twenty minutes later he handed the parchment back across the desk, where Snape was writing in a book he’d retrieved from a drawer.  He had offered no sarcastic comments or distracting chatter while Harry worked, merely ignored him until he was finished.

 

Snape picked up the quiz, and scanned it in the same bored manner he’d perused Harry’s essay.  “Adequate.”  Snape said after a moment.  He set the page aside and regarded Harry directly, “Do you remember the question you asked me that prompted me to assign you this project?”

 

Harry had to think a moment, but he nodded, “Last year, Draco asked you if anyone at the school would support Voldemort’s return, you said no one would, but Quirrel told me you suspected him as far back as Halloween.  I wanted to know how you could say that without setting off the soothstone.  But then, I never actually told you about the soothstone and you assigned me homework to look it up anyways.  How did you know?”

 

“Who gave you that soothstone?”  He asked simply.

 

Harry’s face colored when he thought about the answer to his question.  “Lucius.”  He answered, realizing that with how close Lucius and Severus were, it wasn’t really all that surprising that Snape had known about the stone.

 

“So tell me, what do you think now?  Do you understand what happened; how I was able to fool the stone?”

 

“I think.”  Harry said, hoping he wasn’t about to embarrass himself.  “That you used occlumency.  But what I don’t understand, is how did you know Draco had the soothstone?”

 

“I didn’t.” Snape stated, and Harry blinked in confusion.

 

“You didn’t use occlumency?” Harry asked.

 

“I didn’t know that Draco had your soothstone.”  Snape explained.  He stood and came around the desk, prompting Harry to stand as well so he wouldn’t have to look up quite so far to see him.  “I’m a careful man, Mister Potter.  I happen to be a _master_ of occlumency, and I practice it regularly, even when I have no apparent reason to suspect I might need it.  It is an… underappreciated art; one that many Slytherins ought to explore more than they do.  However, the thing I think you should take from this, is that you should never rely blindly on any magic or artifact, for none are infallible.” Snape’s gaze went to Harry’s forehead and the scar visible through his bangs, “You, are living proof.”

 

Harry’s hand went to his head, and he thought about Snape’s meaning.  Voldemort had tried to kill him as an infant, but his spell hadn’t worked, and had left him with only this single mark.  “Is there a class for occlumency at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, taking all of that in.

 

“Sadly no; though it would not be a class unto itself.  At present, occlumency is not on the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum, but perhaps you can convince…”  His lips twitched, “Professor Lockhart to give you some training in the subject.”

 

Harry grimaced.  He didn’t really want to ask for Lockhart’s help with anything.  The man seemed to him to be a big fake, though he supposed he must have some merit or he wouldn’t have been allowed to teach, and wouldn’t be so famous.  But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something very wrong with the flamboyant teacher.

 

“I may look into that.” Harry said with no conviction.  Things were always strained at best with Snape, and while he so far had somehow avoided any serious confrontation, he didn’t want to push his luck any longer than he had to.  “I suppose I should head to lunch, then.” He added after a moment.

 

“You may go.”  Snape turned back to his writing, ignoring Harry once again as he departed.  Harry quickened his pace when he heard the bells ring out, signaling the start of lunch.

 

* * * * *

 

“Draco!”  Harry waved when he spotted his friend.

 

“There you are!” two new voices said in tandem, coming up behind Harry in the hall.  He barely had time to turn and look over his shoulder before he was grabbed under both arms by the Weasley twins and carried into a side doorway away from the press of traffic.

 

Draco crowded close behind as the twins deposited Harry back on his feet and then loomed over him leaving him nowhere to go, they’d always been tall, topped with curly red hair, and the way they looked down at him was more than a little intimidating, spoiled only slightly by the customary mischievous twinkling in their identical blue eyes.  “What?!” Harry asked, a little irritated and slightly confused by this form of greeting.

 

“We’re still officially mad at you.” Said one of the twins, Harry thought it was Fred.

 

“Leave off him.” Draco hissed trying to push one of the older boys out of the way to get at Harry.

 

“What’re you mad about?” Harry wasn’t really worried, but was a bit apprehensive trying to remember what he might have done to make the twins angry.

 

“For keeping us out of the loop last year.”  George supplied.

 

“And for not visiting or making plans with us over the summer.” Fred finished.

 

“Oh… well… I spent most the summer at Malfoy Manor.” Harry admitted.  “I’m not sure it would have been a good idea to invite you over there.”

 

They looked at each other, and seemed to silently agree on something before both of them pulled back a little, giving Harry room to breath.

 

“Next summer, if we can’t visit you, you’d better come visit us.  Agreed?”

 

“Alright, but… what about Ron?”  Harry asked.

 

“You let _us_ deal with him.” They said confidently.

 

“Whatever you get up to this year.”  George told him, or maybe it was Fred.

 

“This time, we’re all in, no more secrets, not amongst friends.”  They finished together.

 

“I’m not going to get up to anything this year.  It’s not like there’s a new philosopher stone being guarded at the school for us to find.  I’m sure this year will be pretty boring compared to last year.” Harry assured them.

 

“We’ll see!” They grinned, and the look in their sparkling blue eyes made Harry nervous, as if they knew something he didn’t.

 

“Was there anything else you prats wanted?” Draco cut in.

 

“Naw, just a warning Harry.  We don’t appreciate being lied to, not by someone with whom we share _our_ secrets.”

 

“Harry?  Is that, Harry Potter?”  It was the scrawny boy Harry had seen being sorted into Gryffindor the first night at school.  Something with a C, he thought.  The boy was shorter than Harry, and his brown hair still looked tousled, perhaps even less tamed than was Harry’s.  His eyes matched his hair, and at the moment were alight with awe and wonder.

 

“What do _you_ want?” Draco interposed his slight but wiry frame between Harry and the twins, glaring at the first year boy.

 

“Yeah of course it’s Harry; he’s a good friend of ours.” The twins chorused.  One of them grabbed the boy around his shoulders and presented him right in front of Harry.  “Colin, this is Harry Potter.”  He looked a tad nervous now that he was in arm’s reach, especially with Draco scowling right next to Harry.

 

“This cantankerous blonde is Draco Malfoy.  I wouldn’t cross him if I were you.” George added.

 

“Yeah, his father might hex you or something.” Fred’s grin was mischievous.

 

“He wouldn’t really, would he?” Colin’s eyes were wide, though more with curiosity than fright.

 

“Harry, Draco, this is Colin Creevey, he and Ginny are starting up a Harry Potter fan club!”

 

“What?!  Why would you…”  Draco was interrupted by Colin’s enthusiastic outburst.

 

“Oohh, that’s a great idea!” Colin beamed up at Fred.  Harry realized when Colin looked back at him that the boy was holding a muggle camera of some sort.

 

“What’s that for?”  He asked, suspicious.

 

“Oh, I wanted a picture.  I’ve heard so much about you, and I thought, if I had a picture, I could prove to everyone that I’ve actually met you.  And if I really do start a fan club, I could make a bulletin board or something, or a scrap book.  A boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll _move_.  It’s amazing here, isn’t it?  I never knew…”

 

“That’s got to be the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Draco sneered.  “Next thing you know you’ll be asking for autographs.  Harry’s not...”

 

“Let’s get your picture taken; I’m sure Harry has places to be!”  Harry was grateful for Fred’s interruption, but when George grabbed the camera, and Fred steered Colin to stand next to Harry he felt more than a little self-conscious.

 

“Oi!”  Draco didn’t like being ignored, and he tried to pull Harry out of the way, but it was too late, the camera flashed, and Harry was blinking spots out of his eyes.

 

What’s more, he suddenly heard the lilting voice of Gilderoy Lockhart coming their way.  “What’s all this, what’s all this?”  The blond professor was strutting closer.  “Ah, Harry Potter, giving out signed photos are we?”  Fred and George both smothered snickers behind their hands, as Lockhart’s smile revealed each and every one of his brilliant white teeth.

 

“That’s not…!”  Harry suddenly wished he’d refused Colin; he didn’t want Lockhart’s attention on him yet _again_.  Draco had stopped tugging on Harry and stared as Lockhart approach.

 

Lockhart grabbed Harry and pulled him against his side with that sure grip, “Come on then, Mr. Weasley.  A double portrait.  Can’t do better than that, and we’ll _both_ sign it for you.”

 

Colin beamed at this new development, but George raised the camera once, then lowered it and shook it.  “That’s odd; I think I’ve broken it.”  He muttered.

 

“Oh no!” Colin grabbed his camera back and swiftly began inspecting it.

 

“Oh, that’s a tough break.”  Lockhart tisked.  “Another time then.  Perhaps I could borrow you for a bit, Harry?”  He turned that smile and those twinkling blue eyes on Harry.

 

Harry’s mouth opened, trying to think up an excuse not to go with Lockhart, but Draco saved him, “We’ve got to get to Lunch so we can eat before Transfiguration.  McGonagall gets real nasty if you’re late…”

 

There was a flash of light, and Colin looked dazed.  Apparently, he’d just photographed his own face at close range.  “Ah, can’t see…”  Colin announced.

 

“Is the camera working?” Gilderoy wondered aloud.

 

Draco managed to tug Harry free and they both started down the hall toward class.  “Maybe next time, we have to go.”  He called back.

 

“Rotten luck that.”  Fred and George were grinning as they both turned to leave as well.  As annoyed as Harry had been with them before, he grinned widely back now realizing what they’d done.

 

“Sorry Colin.  Let me know how the photo turns out.”  Harry said, as he and Draco drew out of sight.  They really didn’t want to be late to Transfiguration; Professor McGonagall was not a woman to cross – Harry had decided when he’d first met her – and that opinion had only grown stronger.

 

“Thanks for getting me out of that.”  Harry sighed his relief.  They made it to lunch, and ate as quickly as they could, and were on their way to their next class when the bell rang, letting them know they were late; if only a few moments.

 

They ran the last few yards to the classroom and managed to take their seats before McGonagall started her lesson.  Thankfully, their narrow tardiness only earned them a glare this time.

 

“What do you think they meant by ‘whatever you get up to this year’?” Draco mused softly once the lesson started.

 

“Not sure.” Harry whispered back.  “Maybe they know something about what Valarios was talking about with your father?”

 

“Who?”  Draco blinked, but McGonagall was moving their way.

 

“Tell you later.” Harry whispered, focusing on his lesson for the moment.

 

In the hall between Transfiguration and their next class – Doubles Potions – Harry explained, “I overheard your dad talking with a man named Valarios when I visited the manor over the summer.  I don’t know exactly what they were talking about, but it sounded like something dangerous was going to happen.  Then Dobby mentioned something about a plot here at the school, and that I might be in danger if I returned this year.  I wish I knew more, but it’s obvious they think something is going to happen, and they’re not telling us.”

 

“If we were in any real danger my father would have warned me.”  Draco assured him.

 

“That’s just it.  Valarios seemed to think that if he warned you, we’d be in more danger, or something.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met this Valarios, but I wouldn’t pay it too much mind.  It sounds like divination, and even the best seers can get it wrong.  Divination is hardly a reliable area of magic.”

 

“So now yer signin’ autographs, Potter?”  Harry groaned inwardly, pausing in the hall to face Seamus Finnigan, probably the only person in the world he hated more than his cousin, Dudley.  Seamus, like Dudley, seemed to wear a perpetual sneer when he was addressing Harry.  Seamus was a wiry tanned boy with short sandy brown hair, and blue eyes.  His Gryffindor robes were typically untidy, with his tie askew, and collar unbuttoned.  But perhaps the most distinctive thing about him, and the thing that grated most on Harry’s nerves, was his voice topped with a heavy Irish brogue.

 

“Ma said yer a big attention whore, an’ ye’ve got poor Colin chasin’ ya around yer wee fingers.  Bet ya enjoy havin’ people dance ta yer tune.” He continued.

 

“Oh hey.” Draco sneered right back, “They let the pouf come back this year.”

 

Seamus’ face went red and he charged at them just as Harry and Draco both whipped out their wands.  Seamus drew up short, and looked around for support.

 

“Picking fights already?!”  Ron Weasley had spotted them and quickly came up alongside Seamus.  Ron was taller than Harry or Draco, and would probably someday have the same height as his brothers, the twins, and as such was physically imposing facing them down next to Seamus.  Dean Thomas was also coming around the corner just then, drawn by the sound of Seamus and Draco’s jibes.  Dean was a round faced boy with very dark skin and equally dark hair and eyes.  Of the three – whom Harry thought of as ‘Seamus’ gang’ – Dean was probably the one he disliked the least.

 

“What’s it to be, Potter.  Yer plannin’ ta take on the three o’ us?”

 

“It’d hardly be a fair fight.”  Said Pansy Parkinson coming their way, the flounce in her step had her short hair bobbing about her ears.  “Draco would have you all running and crying back to your blood traitor parents all by himself.  But if you want even odds, I’ll fight you too.  You’re not afraid to curse a girl are you?”

 

Her grin was wicked, and Harry didn’t even have time to object to Pansy’s use of the term ‘blood traitor’, before someone cried, “Filch is coming!”

 

They all ran, Seamus and his friends in one direction, Harry, Draco and Pansy in another.  “We could have taken them.” Pansy insisted, looking pleased with herself.  Harry thought she rather enjoyed any opportunity to tease other students, and apparently she was just as willing to pick fights with the Gryffindor boys as readily as the girls.

 

“I’d rather not have to.”  Harry told her.  “Throwing insults is one thing, but we could get in a lot of trouble if we’re caught fighting or hexing each other in the halls.”

 

Her brow furrowed as she thought about that.  They took a round-about way to their classroom, where they already knew they’d have to sit across from the three Gryffindors again while they worked.  “So we need to be sneaky then.  Get them when and where we won’t be caught.”

 

“That’s _not_ what I meant.”  Harry sighed.  “Look, Pansy, I appreciate you coming to back us up there.  But I’d rather…”

 

“You’re welcome.  Anytime you need a hand, I’ll help, and I know some really good curses too.”

 

Harry wanted to say more, but they’d arrived at Potions, and Harry _didn’t_ want to be chatting in front of Snape, who was already regarding them coolly as they took their seats.  They were among the last students to arrive.

 

Harry was used to Snape being snide with him.  He was used to Snape insulting him.  Taking points away from him.  All while favoring Draco, often giving slightly more points to Harry’s best friend than he took away from Harry himself.  He was _not_ used to Snape simply ignoring him.

 

For two hours Snape barely glanced his way, and didn’t say a single word to him directly.

 

Frankly, he almost preferred the antagonism.  He could sit there and bear it until class was over.  But this indifference confused him.  Snape was acting like Harry didn’t even exist.

 

“ _That_ was really strange.”  Harry told Draco once class was over.

 

“What was?”

 

“You mean you didn’t notice, the way Snape was acting towards me?”

 

“I think he’s getting along better with you.  I don’t think he docked you a single point today.  That’s a good sign, right?”

 

“Maybe.  But it felt really strange, like I was invisible or something.”

 

“I’m just glad things are going better.”

 

* * * * *

 

When Saturday came, Harry was relieved to have a little time off, even though he’d only been at school less than a week.  Getting back up to speed was turning out to be somewhat taxing.  He and Draco spent most of the afternoon playing chess in their room, and Harry thought he might actually win for once – until Draco finished him off with a brutal series of moves that left the blonde boy laughing, and Harry trying to puzzle out just how he’d been beaten.

 

They were just getting ready for dinner when Harry heard it; the most bone chilling, harsh sibilant voice he’d ever heard in his life, _“We go out…?  Will master let me kill?”_

 

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looking around for the source of the voice.

 

“You don’t have to look _that_ aghast at the idea.”  Draco looked sour, and Harry couldn’t quite remember what they’d just been talking about.

 

“Wouldn’t you… didn’t you hear that?”

 

“Hear what?”

 

“I didn’t hear anything.”  Said Pansy as she came up from behind them at the entrance to the common room, and glanced back and forth between them before settling her dark blue gaze on Harry.  “What was it you heard?”

 

“A voice… it said…”  Harry thought better of relaying what it had said, especially if the other two students hadn’t heard it.

 

“What did it say?” Draco nudged Harry when he stood silently for a few moments longer, pulling him out of the way of traffic from the corridor.

 

“Never mind, maybe I’m more tired than I thought.”  He yawned, and after another moment, both Draco and Pansy shrugged, and they continued on to the great hall.

 

Harry lay awake in the darkness of their dorm room later that night.  “Draco, you still awake?” He asked.

 

“Mhmm.”  Came the groggy response.

 

“What if something really _is_ going to happen this year.  What if something horrendous happens to me _every_ year?”

 

“Don’t be stupid.”  Draco admonished.  “Being who you are, maybe you attract more trouble than the average person, but that doesn’t mean everything is about _you_.  Go to sleep.”

 

Surprisingly, Harry did just that.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry was feeling rested and ready to get back to his school work by the start of the following week.  Slytherin quidditch tryouts had been moved up to Monday because Marcus Flint – the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team – seemed to think the Gryffindors were already getting a head start on them somehow.  This didn’t give anyone a lot of notice, but Harry and Draco both came out Monday afternoon, ready to give it a go.

 

Marcus was a tall and muscular sixth year boy who lived and breathed quidditch.  He was very strict with them, and his grey eyes seemed to darken when he was cross.  He had a mean streak that Harry did not much care for, as it tended to be turned against their opponents whenever Flint thought he could get away with it.

 

Harry was confident he’d get back on the team, but he didn’t want to take it for granted.

 

“We had a great year last year.”  Flint told them all.  “Potter was _fantastic_ that last match against Hufflepuff.”  Everyone cheered Harry, and his face colored a bit when he remembered what in particular he’d done that last match.  He hadn’t meant to foul the Hufflepuff reserve seeker, and was still mad about what Flint had done to her afterwards.

 

“But this year, the competition will be fierce.”  Flint continued, “The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seekers will be more experienced, no longer new to the game.  The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs lost a couple of good players to graduation, but so did we.  Terrence was a good chaser and a good backup seeker too.  We’ll need to replace him.  All of you returning, let’s put on a good show.  And for those of you who are new…”  He nodded to Draco, Blaise, Greg and Vince, “Best of luck.  May the best men make the team!”

 

They broke apart, and nearly all of them took to the air at once, while Madam Hooch observed from the ground, her broom in one hand and her wand in the other, just in case.  Flint gave them a few minutes to warm up before joining them in the air.  “As always, we’ll do seeker tryouts first.  Who’s trying out for the seeker position, besides Harry?”

 

“I’m trying out again.”  Harriet McClaren said.  She’d tried out for seeker last year, and had done nearly as well as Harry, in his opinion.  But for whatever reason, Flint hadn’t let her on the team, even as a reserve.  She was only slightly taller than Harry, with a very slim boyish frame, despite being in her sixth year at school.  She kept her blonde hair in a pony tail during quidditch tryouts, and Harry thought she was probably a better seeker than any of the other teams had, “Maybe you’ll realize now how important it will be to have a reserve seeker.  That last game could have easily gone the other way when Harry was worn out, or if he’d been injured.”

 

“I’m trying for seeker too.” Draco informed them.  “Harry and I have been training all summer!”

 

“Malfoy, isn’t it?  Guess we’ll see what you’ve got.” Flint smiled encouragingly as he got things started.

 

He had the other players toss practice snitches all around the field, one at a time, or in pairs, and the three would-be-seekers raced to catch them.

 

Harry was a little surprised, when he caught every single ball, leaving Harriet and Draco both frowning a little as they arrived a few moments too late, or bumped into each other trying to get there first.

 

“I think it’s obvious who our main seeker will be.”  Flint’s announcement brought some chuckles.

 

“Harry, you sit out for a bit, let’s see how Draco and Harriet do by themselves.”  So he flew his broom out of the way, hovering by the stands as he watched his best friend square off against the sixth year, Harriet McClaren.

 

Harriet was obviously more experienced, and in most ways more skilled.  Draco’s Nimbus 2001, however, was an amazingly swift broom, with much better handling than Harriet’s.  He nearly always managed to get to the practice snitches first, and Harriet only caught them when he fumbled the catch.  Unfortunately, that still meant she got nearly half of them.  Harry wondered how much better she would have done if she’d had a comparable broom to Draco’s.

 

Harry gave Draco a thumbs up when he glanced his way.  “Come on, Draco.” He heard someone call from the stands close by.  He’d heard those voices during tryouts the previous year, but now experience and familiarity allowed him to immediately recognize them.

 

He flew closer to the stands, where two black-hooded robes sat together.  “Fred?”  Harry blinked, and they both jumped, “George, what are you doing here?”

 

They made shushing motions, and one of them dragged Harry closer by the handle of his broom.  “Don’t give us away.”  George hissed, at least Harry thought it was George.  “Flint might think we’re spying on him.”

 

“Aren’t you?”  Harry blinked more.

 

“No, we’re spying on _you_ , of course.” They said in tandem.

 

“Why are you spying on _me_?!”

 

“So we’ll be there when something terrible happens that you won’t want to share with us.”

 

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you out of things this year.”  Harry reminded them, “Besides, that doesn’t explain why you were spying on tryouts _last_ year…”

 

“Oh, that!”  One of the twins began.

 

“Last year we were spying on Flint.” The other finished.

 

Harry just gaped back and forth at them, no idea how to respond to that.  Then they snickered and one of them added, “We’re yankin’ your chain, you know that, right?”

 

Harry sighed, “Whatever.  Just don’t let me catch you doing this next year…”  In truth Harry didn’t want to find out what Flint would do to them if he found out they were spying on him, and he wasn’t about to give Flint _any_ reason to get truly angry at anyone, if he could help it.  Not even Seamus Finnigan.

 

“I’m on the team!”  Draco was speeding in Harry’s direction, so he pulled away before his blonde friend came close enough to recognize the twins.

 

“Brilliant!”  Harry gave Draco a genuine smile, and clapped him on the back, then spied Harriet leaving the field in a huff.

 

“I was getting worried when Harriet started getting most of the practice balls toward the end, and didn’t fumble any of them either.”  Draco explained, “But Flint says I have better form, and more potential.”

 

Harry frowned, and had to wonder just what it was that Flint had against Harriet.  Personally he thought she was really amazing, and very agile in the air.  Her one major disadvantage was Draco’s superior broom, but this was twice now that she’d failed to make the team despite her obvious talents.  Harry flew with Draco back over the field, and away from where the twins were spying.

 

Flint released a real snitch into the air while he started the tryouts for the chasers.  Harry and Draco competed to catch it while dodging the other participants.  Flint had the would-be-beaters running interference and testing the reflexes of those trying out for chaser positions.

 

“Do you think Greg and Vince will make the team?”  Draco asked during a lull in the action.

 

“I don’t know; Peregrine and Lucian are pretty good.  Maybe one of them will get on as a reserve beater.  We’ll see.”

 

“You can kind of tell they haven’t been practicing every day over the summer like we did.”  Draco observed.  “If they don’t make the team, maybe we can practice with them more next summer, to help them improve their chances.”

 

“If you like.  I didn’t realize you were very good friends, we barely hung out with them last year.”

 

Draco mulled that over as Flint called them all to the ground to announce his decisions for chasers.  He himself obviously would play as the lead chaser, and he selected Adrian Pucey as his right flank chaser.  Peter Connolly – their reserve beater from the previous year – would now start in the left flank chaser position, and Mark Urquhart remained reserve chaser.

 

Once the rest of the tryouts drew to a close, Harry was a little surprised at how the team was shaping up.  Vincent Crabbe made the team as reserve beater, with Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derik as starters in the beater positions just as they had the previous year.  Miles Bletchley was keeper again, and Graham Montague was once again his reserve.  That meant, with Draco as reserve seeker they had a full 11 man team this year.

 

Harry knew that professional quidditch teams had at least 14 – a reserve for each player instead of just each position – but in truth it was rare for them to have less than the maximum allowable: 21.  But the house teams at Hogwarts were limited to 11 members for reasons Harry didn’t entirely understand.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry and Draco agreed they were juggling classes, quidditch practice, and everything else with greater ease, this year.  By the time their second week was coming to a close, Harry had nearly forgotten about dangerous plots and voices only he could hear.  At least until he ran into Dobby.

 

It was Saturday afternoon, and Harry was scanning books along the shelves in the potions section of the library looking for a book he and Draco needed.  When he turned around to head back to their table, book in hand, there was the Malfoy’s house elf.

 

“Dobby?!”  Harry whispered, remembering to keep his voice down.  “What on earth are you doing here?”

 

“Dobby hoped Harry hadn’t forgotten his warning.  Harry is being careful like he promised, isn’t he, sir?”

 

“Everything’s fine, Dobby.”  He promised, “You’d better go though before someone spots you in the library.  You don’t want to get in trouble.”  _Or get me in trouble._

 

“Dobby is very sorry, sir.  Dobby promises he will be very discreet.  Even Master Draco will not know Dobby is around, sir.”  With that he snapped his fingers and disappeared from sight, just a moment before Seamus Finnigan came around the corner, blocking the only exit from this particular aisle.

 

“Talking to yerself, aye Potter?”  He sneered.  “Maybe seein’ yer mum die addled yer wits!”

 

Harry was stunned, “That’s… that’s low, Finnigan!”  He growled, “I doubt even Flint would have stooped to that.”  He tried to move past the other boy, but Seamus moved to block him.  “Get out of my way you foul-mouthed, mop-haired, leprechaun!”

 

“Shut yer trap, Potter!  You’re just a…”  Seamus’ taunt was interrupted.

 

“Hello, Seamus.”  Pansy had just rounded the corner behind the Gryffindor and stopped just out of easy reach.  “Where’s your boyfriend?”

 

Seamus went beet red and clenched his fists, turning to face Pansy, but it was pretty obvious he was restraining himself from hitting her, as he probably wouldn’t have for Harry.

 

“Oh look at that.  Seamus is afraid to hit girls.  Guess he only plays with _boys_.”

 

Seamus howled, and Harry dove forwards, grabbing him before he could land a punch.  Then Pansy screamed, a little belatedly, falling backwards and pointing dramatically, “Don’t hit me!” she cried, and Harry noticed Madam Pince rounding the corner, drawn by Pansy’s shriek.

 

“What is the meaning of this?”  She whispered in her strange tone that always managed to be soft yet carry at the same time.  Every student in the school was wary of Madam Pince, who swooped around the library like the underfed vulture she very much resembled.  Her face was sallow, and her nose large and hooked, and everyone was afraid she’d take objection to any misbehavior from merely whispering too loudly, to the unthinkable desecration of a library book.  Harry was always very _very_ careful about his handling of said books, especially when inside the library itself.

 

Pansy trembled for effect, and Pince grabbed Seamus as Harry quickly let go and stepped back.  “Why does this sort of thing always seem to happen around you Potter?” Pince asked him, her dark eyes narrowing as she examined his face.  Harry just shrugged, and then Seamus allowed himself to be marched out of view by his ear while shooting Harry and Pansy venomous looks.

 

As soon as they were gone, Pansy giggled.  “Oh that was brilliant, Harry.  Don’t you think?”

 

“You need to be more careful; if Pince hadn’t showed up, Seamus might have hurt you.” Harry muttered, “But, thanks for helping.”

 

“I can handle myself, Harry, and I’m not afraid to hex boys.”  She followed Harry as he returned to the table he and Draco had been studying at.  Neither of them objected when she decided to join them, though Harry wondered why she seemed determined to hang out with them this year when she’d hardly even spoken to them the year previous.

 

Soon, however, he didn’t have much thought for anything but their Transfiguration notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fun chapter. The second year is definitely more challenging and rewarding than the first year. Much more of this is original scenes with no analog in the original books, and it seems to me that it’s really coming into its own now. Hope you’re all thoroughly enjoying it.
> 
> Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.


	4. Chapter 4 – The Voice in the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry comes to the full realization that this year may be just as troublesome as the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere, and mild magical violence. No cussing, no adult situations.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.

By Friday of the third week, Harry’s suspicions about their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor were driving him to distraction.  He didn’t know how the other students in his class felt, but he was growing more certain every day that there was something funny about him.

 

Lockhart’s classes were feeling even more useless than Quirrel’s had been the previous year.  Quirrel, at least, had taught them useful spells, and discussed dangerous magic and creatures that they might encounter.  Harry didn’t know how much of that was accurate or worthwhile, but at least a few of Quirell’s spells Harry had put to use, here and there.

 

Lockhart, on the other hand, had great enthusiasm and energy, and while that held their attention, Harry was growing more and more concerned that they weren’t actually learning anything related to Defense.  During classes, Lockhart would read aloud excerpts from his books, and then quiz them on what they’d managed to learn, and sometimes he would reenact certain scenes from the heavily worded tomes, most often calling on Harry to assist him.  Harry found himself occasionally drawn in and fascinated when Lockhart told his stories.  After the first few times, however, he learned to quickly catch himself when it started.  Everyone else was enthralled, including Draco and Pansy, though Draco always agreed afterwards that they didn’t seem to be learning much that was practical or useful.  It felt more like a theater rehearsal than a defense against the dark arts class, at least to Harry.

 

Lockhart hadn’t brought any more live creatures to class since that first lesson, and when Harry asked their teacher once if they were going to learn any hexes, or counter-jinxes, Lockhart just laughed and told them “I think you’re still a little young for that!”

 

This little problem with Lockhart was occupying a great deal of Harry’s thoughts, though he still had not figured out what to do about it before Tuesday of the fourth week.  He had a free period between Herbology and Transfiguration in the afternoon, and he was reading through his book ‘Secrets of Potion Masters and Alchemists’ when he heard the voice again.

 

“So hungry… when will master let me feed?  Let me kill… let me rip…”  Harry sat bolt upright, and glanced around wildly.  He appeared to be alone in the Slytherin common room.  He got to his feet.  “…let me shred and devour…”  The voice was moving.  He thought it started to his left, towards the wall, and seemed to be getting closer, and also rising.  “…let me _kill_ …”

 

Harry raced to the wall, following the sound of the voice, hearing it go up into the ceiling.  How was it in the walls?  Was it a ghost?

 

He rushed out the door to the common room, mentally tracing the path to the closest stairs, and wondering if he could catch up to whatever it was before it did something terrible.  He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found the thing, but he couldn’t sit by and do nothing.  He sprinted up two flights of stairs, and when he got to the landing on the first floor, he strained his ears for several pounding heartbeats, but could no longer hear a sound.

 

“Oh, hello Harry.”  He jumped nearly out of his skin when Annalise Priest came up behind him in the staircase.  “You shouldn’t block traffic in landings I’ve heard its bad luck, are you alright?  Did you just see a ghost?  I was ever so surprised when I saw my first one, seeing as we don’t really get ghosts very much back in…”  The dark haired witch cocked her head to one side in query, but kept right on talking without even giving Harry a chance to answer her initial question.

 

“I’m fine.”  Harry blurted to the bespectacled young girl.  “What are you doing here, don’t you have class?”

 

“Oh I’m using the loo, and I don’t much care to use public bathrooms, but Myrtle’s just up on the next floor, and she’s such a good listener, and no one else seems to go in there, so it’s almost like it’s not public at all, so I…”

 

“Myrtle?”  Harry blinked, and almost regretted asking.

 

“Moaning Myrtle most people call her, but her real name is Maria, or something, she’s a ghost who haunts one of the toilets in the second floor bathroom.”

 

“Oh… right…  Well I’d better be going.”  Harry gave Annalise a friendly smile and started back down the stairs.  The girl started to follow, still talking, and Harry paused, “Didn’t you say you had to use the loo?”

 

“I did, didn’t I?  Well I’d better go then, it was nice talking to you Harry, maybe we can chat again sometime.”  Harry heaved a sigh of relief as Annalise’ footsteps retreated up one more flight of stairs, followed by the sound of a door closing, which Harry could only assume belonged to Myrtle’s bathroom.  If he were completely honest, the girls bathroom and what happened in there was not a subject Harry was particularly interested in.

 

Once Priest was gone, though, his thoughts turned back to the mysterious voice.  He’d heard the voice twice now, and this time he was sure he wasn’t just imagining it.  It seemed to be inside the walls, and it definitely wasn’t friendly.  When he talked to Draco about it later, the blonde insisted that if they were going to investigate, they had to bring the twins in on this new mystery as well.  “If there’s something odd going on, they’re sure to know something about it, and if they don’t, well… I don’t think they’d forgive you for leaving them out… again…  I know I wouldn’t.”

 

They arranged to meet with the Weasley twins the next Friday, just after their quidditch practice.  The red heads found them along the shores of the lake and the four of them walked together, their shoes crunching along the pebbled beach.  “So what’s up, Harry?”  They asked as one, “You ready to fess up to the trouble you’re brewing this year?”

 

“Not exactly.”  Harry began.  He took a breath to gather his thoughts, and the twins were remarkably patient as they waited for him to continue.  “At the end of the first week of term, I heard a voice when I was in the Slytherin wing, but neither Draco nor Pansy could hear it.  I thought maybe I’d imagined it, but I heard it again last Saturday, when I was alone in the common room, and tried to follow it up the stairs.  I think it was coming from inside the walls, and it was talking about…”  He paused and glanced at Draco who was looking at him expectantly as he hadn’t even admitted yet to Draco what precisely the voice had said, “It sounded like it wanted to kill, and to eat whatever it killed.”

 

One of the twins started to say something, but Harry held up a hand, “That’s not all.  Have either of you heard of a man named Valarios Vladescu?”  They both shook their heads.  “We think he’s some kind of seer.  I met him last Christmas at a party, and over the summer I ran into him again, sort of.”

 

“What do you mean, sort of?”  One of the twins asked.

 

“We didn’t see one another, but I overheard him talking about something dangerous occurring at the school this year, I don’t know if that’s related to the voice I heard.  He said the Slytherins shouldn’t be in too much danger, but that _I_ might be somehow, due to uh…”  He was trying to leave Lucius out of his explanation, as he wracked his memory for the exact words the silver haired man had used, “I think he said, ‘I’d been at odds with him before, but I’ve also been accepted by him somehow.’  Whatever that means.”

 

“Who’s _him_?”  Fred or George asked.

 

“I have no idea, but that’s still not all.  I think Dobby must have overheard something somewhere too, because…”

 

“Who’s Dobby?” The twins chorused.

 

“Oh, he’s…” he remembered he was trying to leave Lucius’ part out, “Dobby’s a friend I made over Christmas last year.”  They looked at each other and shrugged, but seemed to accept it, though Draco gave him a rather odd look, “Anyway, uh, Dobby visited me on my birthday and warned me that…”

 

“Wait, your birthday?  When was that?!”  Draco interrupted this time.

 

“July thirty-first, you knew that.  It was like two days after your party.”

 

“You were at the manor during your birthday, and you didn’t even _say_ anything?!”  Draco gasped, “We could have thrown you a party, and I didn’t even get you a present or anything.  Father’s going to be furious!”

 

“It’s not that big a deal, it was still the best birthday I ever had.”  Harry tried to brush it off.

 

Draco looked aghast, “Next year, we’re throwing you the biggest party _anyone’s ever seen_!  We’ll make up for all your rotten birthdays at the Dursley’s, you’ll see!”

 

The twins shared another look, seeming to decide something between them then cleared their throats, drawing them back to the conversation at hand.  Draco subsided enough for Harry to continue, “So uh…”  Harry began, but then paused trying to remember where he’d left off.

 

“Dobby warned you…?”  They prompted.

 

“Right, Dobby warned me that something bad was going to happen at Hogwarts this year, even suggested maybe I shouldn’t return to school.  I had to promise him I’d write letters to let him know I was okay so he wouldn’t worry.”

 

“You wrote Dobby letters?!”  Draco gasped.

 

“Uh, not yet actually…”  Harry flushed, realizing with a guilty start that he’d forgotten all about Dobby’s letters.  “I guess I should get on that.”

 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of…”  Draco trailed off when Harry shook his head, and dropped the subject, for now, promising with his eyes that he’d talk more about it later.

 

The twins did not miss the exchange, unfortunately, “No secrets, Harry, what else aren’t you saying?”

 

“Well… he has also contacted me here at school a couple times to check on me.”

 

“He what?!”  Draco shouted.

 

“Not now Draco, I really don’t want to get Dobby in trouble.”  Harry admonished quickly then turned back to the twins.  They seemed to think better of pushing when Draco so promptly quieted, “I don’t know if Valerios and Dobby were talking about the same thing, or if either of them are related to the voice I heard, but honestly I think I’d be more concerned if they _weren’t_ related.  That would mean there’s _multiple_ plots going on at the same time.”

 

“That’s a lot to take in.”  George said thoughtfully.

 

Harry sighed, “And that’s not all either.”  They both perked back up, “We’ve also been trying to figure out what’s wrong with Lockhart.”  The twins shared knowing glances, “His first class was a disaster, and we think he overreached himself somehow, and he hasn’t brought any other live creatures to class since then.”

 

“Live creatures?”  The twins asked.

 

“Cornish pixies.”  Draco supplied.

 

“He _never_ brought anything like that to _our_ classes.”  Fred revealed.

 

“We had him first period on the first day of term.”  Harry explained, “I think that proves it even more.  There’s something wrong with him, but we can’t really say what, it’s just a feeling.”

 

“Oh, we agree completely.”  Fred assured them.  “Barely four weeks into term, and you’ve already got all that going on?” he said, sounding quite impressed.

 

“You’ve been busy, Harry.”  George finished for him.

 

“It’s not _my_ fault.”  Harry insisted.

 

“Two years in a row, after how many years with nothing nearly this interesting happening at Hogwarts?”  They chorused.  “It’s you.  Don’t be so modest.”

 

“I don’t see how that’s being modest.”  Draco chimed in.  “It’s not like he _asked_ for things to happen to him.”

 

“What if they’re right, Draco?”  Harry felt an awful foreboding.  “What if there’s something wrong with me?  Maybe I’m cursed.”

 

“That’s rubbish.”  Draco was quick to reassure him.

 

“We really didn’t mean it that way, though Harry’s got a point.”  George supplied, earning surprised looks from the two Slytherins.

 

“Yeah.  Harry just _looked_ at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and he exploded.  Trouble seems to come looking for you, but we’re not saying that you invited it.”  Fred added.

 

“But what if…”

 

“Forget it.”  They said together, “Harry, we need to focus on solving this, not assigning blame.”

 

“Now.”  Harry thought it was Fred this time, “I don’t know what to do about your voice, or the ‘plot’, at least not until we can learn more about it.  But the Lockhart Conundrum, that’s something we _can_ work on.”  “How about ‘the Lockhart Paradox’?”

 

“What?”  Harry blinked.

 

“We need a name for this mystery, Harry.”  One of the twins informed him.  “The ‘Great Gilderoy Contradiction’.”  “Or how about the ‘Lockhart Legitimacy Question’?”

 

“Why does it need a name?”  Draco asked, earning raised eyebrows from both twins.

 

“So we can talk about it without people knowing what we’re talking about.” One of the twins replied.

 

 “So maybe it shouldn’t actually have his name in it?” Harry suggested.

 

“A good point Harry.” They conceded, “What about ‘The Anomaly Enigma’?”  “Operation Pest Control?”

 

“We could call it the Pesky Pixie Problem?” Draco offered.

 

“Nice alliteration.”  The twins chimed.

 

“We don’t have to decide right now.” Harry cut in, not wanting to waste time arguing about something like a name.

 

They walked together, talking animatedly, sharing ideas, and discussing schemes, until it was nearly time for dinner.  The twins had some great ideas for digging up dirt about Lockhart.  Harry was going to use his soothstone to see if he could catch the man in a lie, while the twins would work out a time to break into his office and do some snooping.  Draco offered to provide a distraction, but since they had no date set for the break-in, they suggested Draco should focus on helping Harry without drawing attention to himself.

 

“You need to ‘play the straight man’ to balance Harry’s digging, that way you’ll get even more information out of Lockhart, hopefully.”  One of the twins explained.

 

Draco thought he could do that, after a short discussion on what exactly a ‘straight man’ was.  “So it’s kind of like, ‘good auror, bad auror’ is that about right?”

 

“Pretty close, yeah.” They agreed.

 

Now that they had a solid direction for their plans, and felt like they might actually accomplish something, Harry had to admit he felt a lot better about the way things were going so far this year.

 

* * * * *

 

It was a Saturday evening toward the middle of October before he heard the voice again.  It had been raining non-stop, and Draco had gone to see the nurse, Madam Pomfrey, to get a potion for his cold.  He wasn’t the only one either.  It seemed half the staff and students, were suffering from maladies due to the chill and the damp.  So Harry was once again alone.  The Slytherin quidditch team had had a meeting where they’d discussed tactics and strategy, but gratefully weren’t actually practicing out in the weather.

 

Harry was on his way down the stairs from the third floor when he rounded the corner of the second floor landing right into someone coming up from the first floor.  Books went flying, and Harry barely kept his balance, but the girl he’d run into wasn’t so lucky, she fell back hard.  “I’m really sorry.”  Harry said, “I should have been watching where I was going.”  He gazed down at the petite Ginny Weasley looking up at him with a dazed expression, her short red hair just a little skewed as it framed her face.

 

“It’s you…”  She said, in a very odd voice.  Then her brown eyes cleared and she shook her head, seeming to notice for the first time the state of all the books she’d dropped.

 

“Here… here, let me help with that.” Harry offered, kneeling down and picking up the nearest few books.

 

“Harry?”  She squeaked, and colored prettily beneath her freckles as she got to her knees and began frantically grabbing her books as quickly as she could manage.

 

“Yeah.  Harry Potter.” He knew that she knew who he was, but they’d never had an actual conversation or been properly introduced.  “Your brothers told me your name is… Ginny?”

 

“Mhmm.”  She wouldn’t look at him, and Harry wondered if maybe she thought his scar made him ugly, or something.

 

She gasped suddenly and snatched a small black book with no title from Harry’s hand, then quickly stood and fled down the hallway with her Gryffindor robes flapping behind her, and disappeared into the girl’s lavatory.

 

Harry was left feeling a little stunned, as if he’d just missed getting hit by a passing train.  The encounter had started very swiftly, and ended just as quick.  “Strange girl…”  He muttered to no one in particular, as he continued down the remaining three flights of stairs.

 

He was almost to the Slytherin wing when the voice reached him.  _“…so long… so hungry… master won’t let me tear… won’t let me kill…!”_

 

“No killing!”  Harry hissed right back, as he looked around wildly.  There was silence…  Nothing but silence.  After a long moment Harry started walking again.  He made it to the common room, and flung himself into a cushy arm chair.  _What’s happening to me?!_   He wondered.

 

For once, he didn’t share his new experience with Draco.  He was a bit too disturbed by the implications.  He tried to focus on their school work, but Draco turned out to be unusually perceptive.

 

“Okay.  What’s bothering you?  Is it that Pesky Pixie Problem?”  Draco asked that evening, dabbing at his nose with an embroidered handkerchief.

 

“Why are you still sniffling?”  Harry tried to change the subject.  “I thought you went to see Madam Pomfrey?”

 

“I did, but her potion leaves students smoking at the ears.  I thought I’d try my own remedy first to avoid that.  And you’re avoiding the subject.” He gave Harry a stern look, spoiled only slightly by his red puffy nose.

 

“Alright.  And you’re right.  It’s Lockhart that’s bothering me.”  Harry lied.  “I wish I had a better idea why I dislike him so much.”

 

“Let’s see.”  Draco counted off on his fingers, “He’s arrogant… most of his teaching methods don’t work… he _has_ to be exaggerating about all those things he’s written in his books… he jumps to conclusions… and drags you into the spotlight without your consent…”

 

“Yeah okay, I get it.  But there’s something more to it than that.  I mean, if he’s a fraud, how come no one has exposed him?  Dumbledore must have thought he’d do a decent job as a teacher, or he wouldn’t have hired him.”

 

“You know, my father has said that Dumbledore is getting a bit old, and he’s always been a few twigs short of a broom.  Maybe he’s finally lost the whole tail now?”  Draco suggested.

 

“Your father always has strong opinions, but that doesn’t necessarily make him right.”  Draco sat up straighter and glared at Harry.  “I-I’m not saying he’s wrong.”  Harry added hastily.  “Just that… we need to form our own opinions too, just like he told us, remember?”

 

Draco subsided slowly, but eventually nodded.  “You’re right.  But Dumbledore doesn’t exactly give us a lot of opportunity to get to know him better.  We hardly ever see him.”

 

“All _that_ means is we can’t rely on Dumbledore’s opinion of Lockhart.  We have to find out for ourselves.  That means we stick to the plan.”

 

“Right.”  They could agree on that, and while they hadn’t really accomplished anything with this discussion, at least Harry had successfully deflected Draco’s prying.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry’s mood was growing steadily blacker.  And he finally snapped a few weeks later during potions, when Snape corrected Draco for something Harry had done wrong, “That wasn’t Draco’s tal nut.” He informed their professor, “And I’m pretty sure he was about to catch me on it anyways.”  Seamus snickered across from Harry, knowing – as they all did – that Harry was about to feel the lash of Snape’s sharp tongue.  But Harry didn’t really care, he didn’t like being ignored, and Snape had been ignoring him for nearly two months now.

 

But the Potions Master turned on Seamus instead, “Since you’re taking time to be amused by your classmate’s, Mister Finnigan, you and Longbottom must be ready for me to grade your work.”

 

Neville shook his head in sudden panic, and Seamus gaped, “Uh, no Professor!” he started to scoop their beetles into the cauldron.

 

Snape raised an eyebrow as he walked past, “Improperly threshed beetles in a potion that green is certainly a… daring choice.”  Neville grabbed Seamus’ arm before he could dump any more beetles into the bubbling mixture.

 

“That will be ten points from Gryffindor.”  Snape finished, and Harry stared in astonishment for a moment, but Snape had simply moved on.

 

“Wow, you’ve been really irritable.”  Draco informed him after class.  “This has been going on for a couple weeks now.  What is up?”

 

“Potter’s getting so full o’ himself, even tha _teachers_ are startin’ ta buy into his delusions o’ grandeur.”  Harry overheard Seamus saying somewhere behind him.

 

Harry stopped in his tracks without turning.  “What’s the matter, Seamus?”  He heard himself say, “Wishing the sorting hat had put you in a different house?”  Draco and Pansy both watched as Harry finally turned to face the boys behind them.  Seamus and his friend Dean drew up short at the look on Harry’s face.  “Or just wishing that I wasn’t stealing all the attention from the teacher you have a crush on?”

 

A stillness stole over the immediate area in the hall, even though noise drifted to them from further along the corridor.  It was Pansy who broke it.  “Looks like Harry really hit a nerve.  Ron’s going to be sooo disappointed when he finds out his boyfriend has a crush on Snape!”

 

Harry thought Seamus was going to burst; he looked so mad.  He couldn’t quite understand it; they’d used that kind of insult several times before and each time it seemed to set him off more, instead of less.  He’d have thought Seamus would be getting used to it by now, or at least come to expect it.

 

Harry saw movement, but Draco reacted more quickly.  Before Seamus could finish drawing his wand, Draco’s was already out and pointed at the sandy-haired boy, “Everte Statum!” he shouted, the force of his spell knocking Seamus onto his back amongst the crowd.

 

“Cunfundo!”  Pansy shouted next, causing Dean to stumble and lose his grip on his own wand.

 

Harry got his wand in hand, just in time to see Ron’s wand rising towards him.

 

“Slugulus Eructo!” Ron shouted, before Harry could cast his disarming spell.

 

Harry swallowed the incantation he’d been about to cast.  Next thing he knew something was roiling in his stomach.  He watched as Draco and Pansy shouted a pair of charms, and Ronald skidded across the floor tripping Seamus who was just getting his feet back under him.  Then Harry heaved, violently expelling a pair of slimy squirming slugs.

 

“I never!”  Harry turned to face McGonagall looking even sterner than usual, and promptly vomited another slug.

 

Harry was taken to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion that – once he was able to get it down between slugs – slowed his heaves and finally stopped them altogether.  Then he was instructed to make his way to McGonagall’s office.  Once there, Pansy took his head in her hands to examine his face and ensure he was alright.  He still felt ill, but he assured her that he hadn’t thrown up the entire way there.  Draco and the three Gryffindor boys were there too, waiting in silence.

 

The Slytherins and Gryffindors stood as far from each other as the small room would allow.  “McGonagall sent for Snape.”  Draco whispered, for Harry’s benefit.  When the Potions Master arrived, Draco looked at his feet, but Pansy appeared hopeful.

 

They stood there as McGonagall described what she’d caught them doing.  “Obviously they must be punished; we cannot allow dueling in the halls.  Surely you agree.”

 

Snape nodded, “What punishment would you consider appropriate?” He asked, regarding Harry and his friends, and ignoring the Gryffindor boys.

 

“Seamus started it.  Draco only jinxed him in self defense, and Harry didn’t cast anything at all.”  Pansy blurted.

 

McGonagall and Snape shared a look, and asked for the students wands.  They each took three, and cast a spell Harry didn’t recognize.  A ghostly light emanated from each wand in turn.  From Draco’s brown wand was a burst of silver light followed by a bolt of a more bluish color.  From Pansy’s dark grey wand came several swirling green rays with white sparkles in them.  Ron’s brownish grey wand emitted a green and yellow beam that dripped ghostly slime, followed by a cloud of white mist that rose into the air that exactly matched the series of identical clouds emitted from Seamus and Dean’s wands.  Finally, Harry’s wand created a golden flash that became a mouse before transforming into the shape of a glimmering water goblet, and repeated a few times before all the phantoms disappeared.

 

“Two different blasting charms might have been a little excessive.” McGonagall admonished Draco, as it dawned on all of them, that what they’d just seen were the last few spells each of them had cast.  “And that was a particularly vicious slug-vomiting hex, Mister Weasley…”  She added.

 

Pansy glanced at the three boys across from them as Snape regarded them briefly.  “You said Mr. Potter provoked them?” Snape asked, then continued when McGonagall nodded.  “I find it doubtful that Potter provoked them by transfiguring a mouse into a water goblet.”

 

“They were casting _that_ in Transfiguration during fourth period.” McGonagall explained.

 

“Indeed… Five points from Slytherin, then.”

 

“You don’t think their punishments should be more severe?” McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

 

“Their punishments – as you have pointed out – are mine to decide.  They will, of course, serve detentions.  And that is five points… for _each_ blasting spell.”  Snape added, and Harry sighed.

 

“Very well.”  McGonagall acceded, and Snape led them from the room before they could learn the Gryffindors’ punishments.

 

Draco was a bit upset, of course, this was only the second time Snape had taken points from him, but he didn’t seem as shocked as he had the first time.  Snape escorted them back to the Slytherin wing, and left them in the common room without another word.

 

“That went pretty well, all things considered…”  Pansy said after a moment, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“It could have gone worse.”  Harry agreed.  “But I would have preferred to lose a few more points to having to serve detention.”

 

“At least detentions don’t hurt our whole house.”  Pansy blinked at Harry.

 

“Last time I served detention, Voldemort nearly killed me.”  Harry explained, and Draco nodded, while Pansy gasped at his use of the name.  “Last year, after Draco lost fifty points during third term.”  Harry added, by way of explanation.

 

“I… I didn’t know you ran into… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…”  Pansy said softly.

 

“Most people don’t.”  Draco assured her.

 

After a moment, Pansy shook herself and turned to Draco.  “So uh… could you teach me that blasting charm, Draco?”

 

Harry’s best friend smiled and nodded, and soon Draco was coaching Pansy in the proper pronunciation and wand gestures for the spell, while Harry just watched, waiting for his queasiness to pass, and hoping there were no more slugs waiting to come up.

 

* * * * *

 

By the next day, the news of what had happened was all over the school.  Their first class was Doubles Herbology, and the Ravenclaws spent half the class period snickering every time one of them caught Harry’s eye.  Then at lunch Harry watched as a series of students passed by Ron’s place at the Gryffindor table, and congratulated him loudly, making sure Harry and his friends could hear.

 

“Nice job slug-spewing Potter.”  “Guess the Slytherin Poster Boy will think twice about crossing you again, aye Ron?”  “Didn’t know you had it in you, Ronnikins.”  This last was said by his brothers, the twins, “I dare say you did that hex better than _we_ could.”  “You do your brothers proud!”  There was mirth in their eyes as they glanced towards Harry.  “Just better not let Mum find out about that one,” “that beats blowing up a toilet any day.”

 

Harry sank into himself, wishing he’d had his invisibility cloak at hand.  But over the next week Harry started noticing that Ron seemed a bit sullen, often going out of his way to avoid Harry and his friends.  Seamus and Dean, on the other hand, were still raring to fight any chance they thought they could get away with it.  Harry had to wonder over this, but couldn’t really decipher this newest behavior.

 

They received notices of their detentions on the last Thursday before Halloween, less than a week after their now-famous fight.  Harry was to report to Lockhart’s office to ‘assist in answering fan mail’, while Draco was to clean out the thestral Stables under the supervision of Silvanus Kettleburn, and Pansy was instructed to report to the Headmaster’s office.

 

“What’s a thestral?”  Pansy and Harry both asked Draco.

 

But the blonde boy had no clue.  “Guess I’ll find out.”

 

The worst part was that their detentions were scheduled for Halloween, and that meant they’d miss out on at least a portion of the celebration.  But it wasn’t _all_ bad.  They’d been looking for opportunities to investigate Lockhart, and Harry decided he could use this as just such an opportunity.

 

So on Saturday afternoon, Harry found himself in the hall outside Lockhart’s office, with his soothstone in his pocket.  He only wished he had some way of detecting if Lockhart was using a form of defense that would protect him from the effects of the soothstone.

 

When Harry knocked, the door was opened almost immediately, “There’s the scalawag!” Lockhart grinned broadly, flashing each and every one of his perfectly white teeth.  “Getting off easy, I see.  But then, I hear your offense was pretty minor compared to the other boys, was it not?  Come on in and take a seat, and we’ll get started.”

 

Harry sat down under the winking gazes of dozens of Lockharts smiling at him from all the photographs, posters, and book covers placed strategically about the room.  Harry address envelopes as Lockhart read his fan’s letters aloud, before penning his replies.  Harry soon began encouraging him to elaborate on the stories mentioned in the various letters since that accomplished two things.  First, it seemed to offer additional opportunities for conversation, and secondly, it meant Harry had to write less.

 

“So she was there, when you defeated that banshee?”  Harry asked, after Lockhart finished reading another of his fan’s letters.

 

“Yes, she was very grateful, but I’m afraid she was a bit dazed.  Not surprising really, considering what the town had been through.”  Harry slipped his hand into his pocket once Lockhart was finished, feeling his soothstone warm to the touch, but he schooled himself to stay still.  He wasn’t sure what it meant.  It wasn’t the warmest Harry had felt.  Was it a half-truth?  That by itself wouldn’t be much use to Harry.

 

After that was another letter regarding a werewolf Lockhart had subdued.  Lockhart talked on and on, retelling parts of his ‘adventures’ quoting from his books, and gesturing animatedly as he re-enacted parts of the story.

 

When Harry asked him how he’d known how to defeat the werewolf, Lockhart explained that the trick was the Homorphus Charm – which was true – and that the encounter had been grueling – which was also true – and that Lockhart was particularly proud of that accomplishment – another truth – and he wished Harry could have seen it, ‘it would have been inspiring’ – which was the only part that was a blatant lie.

 

Harry felt that using the soothstone was making him more confused than he’d been before, when he just thought Lockhart was a blowhard.

 

And that wasn’t nearly as confusing as the response to Harry’s question about whether it ever got tiring saving all those people, and having everyone thanking him and asking for autographs all the time.  “I’ve done so much good, that you might think I would get tired of it all.  But it’s worth every drop of sweat, every bruise and scrape, to see the gratitude in someone’s eyes whose life you’ve just saved.”  True.  “My only wish is that I had more time, or could be in two places at once, so that I might help even more.”  Once again, the soothstone started to grow warmer, but Harry wasn’t certain it was indicating a lie, or what part could have been a deception.

 

Harry didn’t know what that meant either.  He honestly was beginning to think Lockhart was mental or daft, and that the soothstone just couldn’t get an accurate read on him, either that or he had a dud for a soothstone.

 

He tried to come up with questions for every letter, but not all of them offered useful opportunities.  Lockhart obviously wasn’t protecting himself from the soothstone in any manner Harry was familiar with, but the information Harry gleaned was so confusing, he might as well have been.  Lockhart seemed to lie or tell half-truths often, but Harry was having a lot of trouble pinpointing just what he was lying about, and he was starting to feel frustrated.  After he’d been there a few hours, Lockhart began lighting candles; the light from the windows fading as the sun began to set.

 

“I should probably get going now.”  Harry said, “I think my detention is just about done, don’t you think?”

 

“Is it now?  Look at that, you’re right, Harry.  Of course you’re right – the time always flies when you’re having such fun, don’t you agree?”

 

“Yeah it does.”  Harry agreed, as he felt the sooth stone grow warm in his pocket, this time – he assumed – in response to his own lie.  A fact he found more than a little amusing.  “May I ask you one more question?”  He continued, as he didn’t know when he’d get another chance for this.

 

“Of course, Harry.  I’m your teacher after all, questions are to be encouraged.”

 

“I liked your first lesson, when you brought those pixies to the class.”  Lie.  “How come you haven’t brought any more creatures like that to class?”

 

Lockhart’s expression was very difficult to read.  He seemed pleased at the praise, but somehow not so pleased as well.  “Well, that.  I was a bit careless, and I let things get a little out of hand.”  Truth. “I didn’t really take the pixies seriously,” Truth. “And I let them get the jump on me and grab my wand.”  Truth.  “So I was scolded by Dumbledore,” Lie. “and forbidden from bringing more live creatures to the classroom.”  Lie.  “Are you quite alright, Harry?  You look a little tense.”  Truth.

 

“I’m fine.” Harry blinked, and tried to shake himself.  Why would Lockhart lie about something like that?  “So, you’re not worried you couldn’t handle a lesson like that again next time?”

 

“I’ve handled far worse than pixies.” There was no response from the stone, “So of course I could handle another lesson like that.  But it’s probably best not to push our luck.  Dumbledore’s a wise man, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”  Harry thought he felt a little warmth right at the end, perhaps another partial truth.

 

Harry’s head was buzzing, and he excused himself quickly.  If the soothstone was to be believed, Lockhart _hadn’t_ been admonished by Dumbledore, but he’d still used that as an excuse to dumb down his lessons.  That was perhaps the biggest thing Harry could take away from this.

 

He headed down the hall, and paused for a moment in the second floor corridor to gather his thoughts, mulling over what he’d learned, and what they could do with the information.  Then he shook himself, and continued down to the ground level and the great hall, where he joined Draco and Pansy at the Slytherin table for the Halloween feast.

 

The Great Hall was highly decorated for the celebration, with two of Hagrid’s enormous pumpkins levitating above either end of the high table carved into the largest jack-o-lanterns Harry had ever seen.

 

The food was amazing, as always; though some of it was a bit colder than it would have been had Harry arrived earlier.  All too soon, the feast was over, and it was time to head to bed.  “He said she was grateful, and a bit dazed, but the stone was warm in my pocket, so at least part of that was a lie.”  Harry explained to Draco as they walked, so he didn’t notice right away when the people in front of him stopped, and he bumped into Pansy, nearly knocking her into the next person.

 

“What’s going on?”  He asked, following the gaze of those around him to see that something was written on the wall ahead.

 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN

OPENED.  ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

 

“Enemies of the heir, beware!” Draco read aloud, “Bet the mud… muggleborns will be next.”

 

“Next what?!” Harry asked.

 

But before Draco could answer, Argus Filch was pushing through the crowd, “What’s going on here?  What’s going on?”  Filch stopped and stared at the torch bracket just to one side of the writing on the wall, and Harry realized something was hanging there.  “My cat!  My cat!  What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?!”  He whirled around glaring at all the students in turn, who almost universally shrank back, “Who did this?!”  He howled, “Who’s murdered my cat?!”

 

“ _Argus?!_ ”  Dumbledore’s voice brought silence to the hall.  He swept past the students and carefully lifted the rigid form of Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.  “Come with me, Argus.”  He beckoned.

 

Lockhart, who had arrived with several others, said, “My office is nearest, Headmaster – just upstairs – please feel free…”

 

“The rest of you, head to your Houses.” Dumbledore told the students.  “Prefects, make a careful count, and report to your Heads of House when they come by later.  There will be an announcement first thing in the morning.  No students are to be in the halls until then.”

 

They were led away, and Harry felt a pit forming inside him, a lump of dread at some unnamed fear.  It was just like the previous year, when something terrible had been about to happen, or had just happened, and Harry knew this would be something terrible as well.

 

He forgot to ask Draco what he’d meant by ‘the muggleborns would be next’, and fell asleep to have disturbing dreams which he didn’t remember, except that somehow he knew they were violent, and dreadful.

 

* * * * *

 

When Harry came into the Slytherin common room the next morning, the whole place was abuzz with excited and nervous conversation.  “It’s an old legend, but every Slytherin knows it.”  Annalise Priest was saying.

 

“What’s an old legend?”  Harry asked, finding a seat close to the fire.

 

“The Chamber of Secrets!” she said excitedly, turning to face Harry.  “Of course, you’d know all about it, I know you would, but I wonder who the heir is…”

 

“I’ve never heard of the Chamber of Secrets.” Harry exclaimed.

 

“It’s rubbish, anyways.”  Draco interjected.  “Half her story is wrong.”

 

“I told you.” Annalise countered, unperturbed, “That’s just the way it was told to me!  Everyone knows the chamber was created by Salazar Slytherin without the knowledge of the other Hogwarts founders, even though they searched high and low none ever found the entrance, but Salazar hid great treasures and a library of secret knowledge within the chamber for his eventual heir to find, allowing them to put the rightful control of the school in the hands of a worthy heir.”

 

“There’s supposed to be a creature.”  Draco insisted.  “Only the heir can open the chamber, and only the heir can control the creature.  That’s the version I heard.”

 

“Is it you?”  Vincent Crabbe asked.  “Is that how you know so much about it?”

 

“Is it me, what?”  Draco was mildly perplexed.

 

“Are you the… the heir of Slytherin?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.  If I were the heir, I wouldn’t have used the creature to kill a cat.  Nobody likes Filch or Mrs. Norris, but using a powerful magical creature to kill a cat is just stupid and wasteful.”

 

“Do you know what sort of creature it is?”  Harry asked.

 

“My father might know.  He’s the one who told me the legend when I was a kid.  I don’t remember if he told me exactly what the creature is, but it’s supposed to be something only the heir of Slytherin can control.”

 

Harry mulled that over, while listening to the additional arguments and discussion on the matter.  Several people came into the common room with books from their dormitories, including _“Hogwarts, A History”_ hoping to share additional information on the legend, but even in the books most of it seemed sketchy and vague.

 

Harry did note, however, that Draco’s version seemed more in line with the written legends than Annalise Priest’s.  Eventually, Professor Snape arrived, and led them downstairs for breakfast.  Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore stood at the podium in front of the high table.

 

“I promised an announcement last night.”  He began once the noise had stopped.  “After careful examination, it has been determined that Mrs. Norris was not killed, but rather petrified.  We will be able to cure her, but the following rules are being implemented effective immediately.  No students, even prefects, are to be out after curfew, and no student is to be out of their dormitories until five forty-five at the earliest each morning.  These two rules apply even on weekends.  Students should not be alone in the halls at any time, always walk with at least one friend.  Any suspicious activity is to be reported to a teacher, or prefect.  But be advised not to take action yourself, particularly against other students, or you may find yourself sharing in the punishment.  Now, let’s enjoy our delicious feast!”

 

Harry had lost much of his appetite, but still nibbled on his food until breakfast was over.  Something terrible _had_ happened, and this announcement, while delivered with confidence and calm, had Harry worried that even Dumbledore might be out of his depth.

 

* * * * *

 

It was less than a week now until Slytherin’s first Quidditch match of the year, and Flint was hounding them hard in practices, even though most of the team was quite confident about the outcome of the match.  They’d beaten Gryffindor pretty solidly the year before, and they didn’t expect any major changes in Gryffindor’s team roster, since they hadn’t lost any players to graduation the previous year.

 

“Harry, Harry!”  Colin Creevey hailed Harry in the hall on Tuesday between classes.  Harry was glad to note Ginny Weasley wasn’t around.  Perhaps they weren’t starting a fan club after all.

 

“What is it?”  He and Draco stopped, and Colin’s companion – a round sandy haired boy whose name Harry didn’t know – stopped with him as well.

 

“Everyone in our dorm is really excited and nervous about the Chamber of Secrets, but no one seems to know what it is.  A few people checked out some books, and it apparently has something to do with Salazar Slytherin and… well… you’re the only Slytherin I could think of to ask, what do you know about the chamber?”

 

Harry sighed, this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have with anyone, let alone Colin Creevey, but he figured he could get it over with and hopefully no one else would bother him about it.  “I hadn’t heard about it before Sunday.”  He admitted, “But from what I can gather, Salazar Slytherin had a falling out with the other founders of Hogwarts, and had a big fight with Godric Gryffindor just before he left the school.  But the legend goes that he created a secret chamber in the school before he left, and warned that someday his true heir would return, open the chamber, and use the creature within to take over the school.  There’s also a possibility he hid some sort of treasure in the chamber.”

 

Colin’s eyes were wide.  “What about muggle-born witches and wizards?  I’ve heard people say something awful is supposed to happen…”

 

It was Draco this time that responded.  “Salazar didn’t believe that muggle-born witches and wizards should be taught magic at all.  So if the heir took over the school…”  He looked at Colin expectantly for the boy to fill in what he hadn’t said.

 

Colin blinked at Draco, “You mean; I’d have to leave…?” He squeaked.

 

“Are your parents both muggles?”  Draco asked in surprise.  Harry eyed him warily, hoping he’d stay civil.

 

“Yes.  No one else in my family has magic… that I know of.”

 

“Well then.  You wouldn’t _have_ to leave.”  Draco said in a sarcastic tone.  “You could always wait around and hope the monster didn’t kill you.”  If he was offended at Colin’s presence – now that he knew he was muggle-born – Harry thought he was doing a good job of hiding it.

 

“M-m-monster?!” Colin’s eyes looked ready to pop from his face.

 

“Well yeah, the creature in the chamber has to be pretty nasty if it could allow the heir to take over the school from the likes of some of the great witches and wizards who have been headmaster over the years.  Not to mention our current staff.  With Professor Snape, and McGonagall here, it’d be pretty tricky.  Not to mention Dumbledore.  He may be a bit daft, but it’s been said even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feared him.”

 

The bell rang then, and they all had to hurry to get to their next classes.  Once they were out of earshot, Harry asked, “Is that what you want?  For all the muggle-born witches and wizards to be gone from the school?”

 

“Well, you have to admit, most the muggle-born witches and wizards just aren’t as good as those in the wizarding families.”  Draco frowned.  “I _still_ don’t like the idea of them taking seats that _should_ belong to _real_ witches and wizards.  But, if _I_ were the Heir of Slytherin, I think I’d try to make them all leave, rather than murdering them with the monster.  That just seems… _barbaric_.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure what to say.  On the one hand, Draco had avoided using the offensive term mudblood, and forcing students out was definitely an improvement over killing them.  But he didn’t like the idea of making muggle-born witches and wizards leave the school.

 

“Didn’t Granger score at the top of our class for exams last year?” Harry said softly after a moment.  He realized that may not have been the best thing to say when Draco turned and scowled at him.  Draco didn’t like being reminded of that, as his father had gotten on his case over that very fact during the summer.  “And my mother was muggle-born…”  He added before Draco could retort.

 

Draco immediately softened, and seemed to give the matter serious thought.  “I suppose…” He began, but then stopped, “I suppose there are _some_ good muggleborns.  But how do you tell which are worth giving seats to and which aren’t?”

 

Harry had no answer for that, and was sure anything he said would make things worse, so he just shrugged, even though he was far from satisfied with Draco’s reply.

 

“I’m going to write my father and ask him for more information on the Chamber of Secrets.”  Draco added.

 

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt, but I don’t know that it’ll help much either, after what Valarios said.”  Harry shrugged.

 

“Well yeah, and I still don’t know if I buy into any of that divination rubbish.  And maybe I should just _ask_ him about Valarios?”

 

“Then you’d have to explain how you knew, and that means you’d have to tell him I overheard part of their conversation.  I’m not sure telling him that is such a good idea.”

 

“You’re probably right… _as usual_.”  Draco sighed.  “I’ll just see what he’s willing to share about the Chamber.  If he doesn’t tell me anything, then maybe that will confirm that the chamber is related to his conversation with Valerios, right?”

 

“That’s… actually pretty smart.  Yeah, go for it.” Harry smiled at his best friend.

 

They made it to their charms class on time, and for the next two hours they tried to ignore the glances they – as Slytherins – were getting from the Ravenclaw students.  “Why do they keep looking at us?” Harry whispered halfway through the class period.

 

“Maybe they think one of us is the heir of Slytherin.”  Draco scoffed, “Or if not us, we might be in league with the heir, considering we’re all Slytherins, right?”  He wasn’t sure how much Draco was joking, but Harry didn’t like it either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think it’s safe to say that Harry’s year is fully under way by now. Lots of new plot twists and ideas in this chapter . Here’s hoping plenty of you catch onto the things I tried to put in there, while I also hope that some of them aren’t too obvious, or too subtle for that matter.
> 
> In particular, I’ve found quite a bit of enjoyment in writing Pansy Parkinson into the story with a level of depth and detail that the original stories never took the time for. I’m gaining a growing appreciation for her as a character, and I hope you all enjoy the way I portray her as much as I am enjoying writing her.
> 
> Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.


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